Strategy and Tactics
by ichibanseiken
Summary: Renji seeks Yumichika's expert help in his effort to pursue Kuchiki-taichou's affection. Sequel to "Comfort and Safety".  Yaoi warnings apply; rated T, later chapters M.
1. Chapter 1

**Dear Reader, welcome to "Strategy and Tactics", a sequel to "Comfort and Safety". **

_Some of you have sent me mail with interesting questions regarding Gabriel. Sadly, there is no Gabriel in this fic – by the time I posted C&S on , S&T was already almost completed. However, I hear you – your ideas are interesting and your numbers impressive. There will be at least a one-shot featuring Gabriel coming up._

_Thank you, everyone, for writing reviews. They encourage me to write, so if you want me to go on, keep reviewing! Also, my greetings to our global readership. When I look at story traffic statistics, it warms my heart to see that my words reach readers from all around the world. English is not my first language, either, and I feel deep kinship with anyone who attempts to read in anything other than their mother tongue _

_Here, Renji is a man of action and decides to actively pursue the man who drives him crazy in the most delightful way._

**Chapter 1**

There. Last form of the damage report was filled out. Renji's stomach grumbled, reminding him of the hour.

He stood up and stretched his arms toward the ceiling, loosening the knot in his upper back.

"Taichou, how 'bout I take the division report to the 11th? It's almost lunch."  
Byakuya did not raise his eyes from his writing.

"Very well, Abarai."

It occurred to Renji that the "Very well, Abarai" was one of few sentences Byakuya would repeat as needed since they returned from their mission in the Living World. It was a bit of a brush-off, a bit of a cop-out, and a lot of denial of what happened between them. Renji didn't like the brush-off part much.

"You mind if I do some sparring after lunch? I'd take 2 hours, tops."

"Go right ahead, Abarai."

Another canned response. But Renji could reciprocate in kind.

"Thank you, taichou."

Byakuya raised his eyes only to see his fukutaichou's form disappear out the door. He sighed. Their relationship grew so strained, so awkward. Only the most necessary words were exchanged. Renji still seemed hurt by his rejection. He was still hurt by the necessity to reject Renji's interest. If they could only go to where they were before – hostile, competitive. That sort of tension was easily understood. It was absolutely nothing compared to the turmoil he experienced now. Knowing Renji would be gone for at least three hours, barely capable of keeping his eyes open after weeks of sleepless nights, he notified the 3rd seat to wake him shortly after lunch, and retired to his captain's quarters for a much-needed nap.

XXXXXXX

The 11th division felt informal and disorganized, like always. Yachiru, the pink-haired girl fuktaichou, bounced around the office while Ayasegawa Yumichika filled out her paperwork. "Oh, Eyebrows-chan is here! Hi Eyebrows-chan!"

"Got the damage reports for you." Renji tossed the bound stack of papers onto an empty corner of Yumichika's well-organized work surface.

"Ahh, thanks. Another consequence of our division's fight-hard, play-hard attitude." Yumichika's eyes brightened in a smile as he straightened the bound stack, making it parallel with the edge of his desk. The feathers above his brow swayed lightly.

Renji showed no indication of leaving.

"Something going on, Renji?"

"It's almost lunch. My treat? And maybe we could do some sparring afterward."

Yumichika's full mouth widened in a wicked smile. The invitation was unusual.

"Oooh, Renji, are you up to no good?"

"That's for me to know and for you to find out." Renji smile didn't make it all the way up to his eyes, and Yumichika thrilled to the air of adventure in the air.

XXXXXXX

"Your captain is a very esthetically aware man," Yumichika said, picking up a slice of sushi in graceful fingers. He dipped the fish end in a bit of soy sauce and eased it into his mouth with effortless elegance.

"You're saying I'm 'unbeautiful' for him." Renji scoweled,.

"No." Yumichika savored the bit of fish and rice, swallowed, and continued his train of thought. "I merely think you need to be less of a slob to have your beauty shine through. You do have some significant assets."

Renji tensed self-consciously under Yumichika's appraising gaze.

"So what do you suggest?"

"First, let's spar. Then we clean ourselves up and I'll come up with a plan for you to follow."

Renji's eyes brightened. "Thanks, Yumi, I knew you'd know what…"

"Wait," Yumichika halted him, his voice stern. "You want to learn from me, you must obey my instructions. To the letter. It won't always feel comfortable. You'll be out of your comfort zone, but you gotta do it anyway. Or, no advice. I won't waste my time on somebody who asks me to think for them and then just disregards what I have to say."

Yumichika daubed his lips with a napkin and ran his hand through his hair, making it lie in place just-so.

Renji sat in silence for a while. "You won't ask me to do anything embarrassing, right?"

"Not on purpose. It may feel embarrassing to you, at first. Point is, if you don't try, you'll never get past where you are."

"I'll probably regret this…but OK. Thanks, Yumi."

XXXXXXX

A sense of rejuvenation from their vigorous workout was followed by a clean rinse and a dip in the onsen. The hot water of the communal bath relaxed Renji's tight muscles. He dipped under, feeling the pleasant sensation of womb-like warmth.

Yumichika lost no time. He observed his new student with a check-list in his head. Haircut, manicure, pedicure, massage…inspect the wardrobe.

As he ran a tally of things to do, Renji submerged himself in the hot water, his hair floating on the surface like crimson silk. Yumichika smiled. This was going to be so much fun.

XXXXXXX

"But, Yumi, I don't want to have my hair cut."

Yumichika rolled his eyes. "I said, you do as I say. Besides it's just the dry ends."

Renji sat on a stool in Yumichika's kitchen, towel over his shoulders.

"Hold still. I'll take off only what I have to, no more."

Renji's haircut was halfway done when Ikkaku came in. He leaned against the doorjamb, eyebrows raised.

"How come nobody invited me to the party?"

"It's not a party. Renji just needs some help, that's all."

Ikkaku's eyes crinkled in amusement. "Help? From you, Yumi? What kind of help might this be?"

"Oh shuddup," Renji groweled. "I have this project going on and Yumichika is good at this shit."

"Oh let me guess. You want to be beautiful. You don't know this, Renji, but Yumichika's been trying to make me beautiful for decades. He even tries to make me wear stuff with flowers on it. Man…you're in for it now. Better you than me, though."

Yumichika put the scissors down and scampered over to his taller partner. He raised himself on his tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "You're beautiful all by yourself."

He grasped Ikkaku's chin and met his eyes, all serious. "This is a secret project, Ikkaku. Don't tell. Promise?"

Ikkaku looked at Renji once more. The redhead looked utterly miserable, perched on a stool, getting his hair trimmed for the first time in two years. There were dark shadows under his eyes, and he wasn't smiling. There was a time Ikkaku felt that way, too.

"Allright – I'll tell only if the price is right." His voice was gruff, his eyes serious. "But keep me in the loop. I wanna be entertained." 

XXXXXXX

"It's ugly and it's gotta go." Yumichika was adamant.

"It keeps the hair out of my eyes!"

"Do you want to be called 'pineapple' for the rest of your life?"

Renji clenched his jaw, muscles working. He did, after all, ask for help.

"I'll need a way to keep my hair outta my face when I fight."

"There are plenty of guys who fight with long hair loose." Yumichika sighed in exasperation. "Look now. Your hair is trimmed, washed, conditioned, dried, it looks like liquid fire. It's awesome. It's a total visual cue to attract attention. Isn't that what you wanted to do?"

XXXXXXX

Byakuya woke from his nap and looked around. Renji usually made tea this time of the day, but Renji was gone. Sparring, as he recalled. Byakuya stretched out in the quiet, private office. The paperwork was all caught up on after their absence and his body ached from being chained to the rigid, hardwood chair. A bit of sparring would do him good – if only he could find the time.

He finished the last brush stroke of the current report and he set the brush into the jar, moving the paper out of harm's way when the door opened and Renji walked in.

"Hello, taichou," he said, his greeting the same as always. Renji headed for his desk, seemingly oblivious to the open-mouthed expression his captain bore.

Byakuya could not help but stare. His fukutaichou…he must have changed into a clean uniform after his workout, but this uniform seemed fitted to him, sitting on his broad shoulders with comfortable ease. That was remarkable in itself…but the head-spinning feature was Renji's shiny, crimson hair. It slithered over his shoulders and down his back. The front strands were caught out of his face in a half-ponytail, bound in a thin length of black silk. The layers underneath undulated with every movement of Renji's frame. Byakuya surprised himself by a sudden urge to touch that silky hair. His hands still remembered the way soft strands slithered across the webbing of his fingers …

_Quite inappropriate. Time to stop right now. _

He forced his eyes to the next report, but his hands were empty of his brush as he breathed in and out, forcing his inconvenient feelings under the impassive Kuchiki façade.

Renji forced himself to keep his own face neutral as he felt a delicious, wild reiatsu disturbance from his taichou's location. He closed his eyes to _see_ his reiatsu better. Ahhh…a few thin tendrils of energy were extended toward him. Renji, very daringly, allowed his own somewhat disordered reiatsu to escape. Pen in hand, seemingly focused on his work, he felt the tendrils of his flame-red reiatsu seek out Byakuya's all by itself, and he relaxed at the feeling of comfortable rightness as they touched, gently entangled. He could work better like this, anyway. Anything was better than that artificial, cold distance between them. Suppressing a smile, he frowned in concentration and got to work.

Within, Byakuya screamed in frustration. Without, his expression was somewhat peevish. He picked up his brush with the best intention of getting some work done. He felt his reiatsu flare, he felt Renji's respond, and he also felt their contact…but since Renji was apparently oblivious to it, Byakuya decided he can leave well enough alone. He could enjoy his fukutaichou's presence as long as it was accidental, he rationalized. It was a compromise, and perhaps not a very proper compromise at that, but it was surely better than alerting Renji to the fact that he failed to control himself and reached out for him.

XXXXXXX

The winter light passed, replaced by early night when their work was done and their stomachs began to clamor for their rights. Wet snow began to fall and the wind picked up.

"Abarai."

"Yes, taichou."

"Would you like to spar a bit before dinner?"

Renji eyed his captain.

"I'd love to, taichou. Let me get my bo." Renji stood and stretched out, his brush and ink put away.

"I meant with zanpaktou, Abarai-fukutaichou."

Renji walked over to Byakuya's desk and bowed, his loose hair swinging freely toward his captain. "I have sworn never to raise my blade against you again, taichou. Please pick some other weapon, any weapon of your choice."

Byakuya inhaled in surprise, catching a whiff of a warm, earthy aroma from Renji's swaying hair. He sat transfixed.

"Pick your weapon, taichou," Renji broke the silence, his posture erect.

Byakuya paused, a customary pause which served him well when he was at loss for words."

"A long staff would be satisfactory, Abarai."

Winter weather forced the use the indoor 6th division practice hall right down the corridor. Gas lanterns illuminated the room from wall scones, casting long, flickering shadows at the black and white shoji doors, the light wood-paneled walls. They both picked a 6-foot staff from a weapons rack.

"Won't you tie your hair up, Abarai?" Byakuya's voice held a tinge of curiosity.

"No…I'll try it like this."

"What prompted the change?" Byakuya felt a raw, possessive feeling expand inside him. A new feeling. An inconvenient feeling, for it reminded him of the times he got to see Renji with his hair down. He didn't see a reason why the rest of Seireitei should be extended the same privilege.

Renji glanced at him, his eyebrows even more expressive now that his exotic tattoos were no longer obscured by the white bandanna.

Renji didn't have a passable answer to his captain's question.

_Because you think it's sexy. Because I want you to remember how much you liked running your hands through my hair. _

Renji was shooting for a neutral reply. Something unrelated to Byakuya. Something…

"Yumichika told me it looks better that way." The words were out before he could check himself.

He saw a dark cloud pass across his captain's face. "If Ayasegawa-fukutaichou thinks it looks better that way, then by all means, wear it that way, Abarai-fukutaichou." Byakuya's mask was cold, his eyes hard.

They bowed to one another. Their staves clashed with ferocious force. The usual kata and slow-work, the painstaking dissection of individual techniques was thrown out the window that day. The strong, slim length of wood slid between their fingers as they adjusted their grip, dancing around one another; the lower end swept the knee, it tried to pierce the foot to the floor, it blocked another low attacks, making the offending staff skitter along the length of wood, not quite reaching the unprotected hands. Sneaky spins followed by cross-handed blows swept the bo up high, only to follow up with a strike to the open ribs. Head strikes barely avoided, throat thrusts deftly blocked aside and countered. A hand-strike breaking the grip – a weapon clattering to the floor – a graceful body leaping in a tucked roll to pick it up while getting out of the way of another curt, efficient attack.

The tip of Byakuya's staff grazed Renji's forehead and the redhead staggered back, his skin broken, red streaks oozing down over his eye.

"Wait." He called for a break, unable to see.

The sight of profuse bleeding stopped the action immediately.

They bowed to one another in thanks. Byakuya placed his bo on the weapons rack and left.

XXXXXXX

Yumichika was ecstatic.

"See, it worked. Good job getting him riled over the hair, Renji."

"How do you mean?" Renji mumbled, an ice pack on his patched forehead, his breath shallow to protect his broken ribs.

"He thinks we have something going on. He's jealous. You wanted a reaction, right? Well, you got one."

XXXXXX

Byakuya had the house healer tend to his broken hand and cracked ribs. He was bruised in more places than he cared to think about. And Renji…he probably fared no better. A sudden, painful memory lanced through his mind.

"_I will strive to never hurt you again." _

Renji kept to his own vow: he refused to raise his zanpakuto against his captain.

Byakuya, however, failed. He inflicted significant damage on his fukutaichou, damage easily avoided. It occurred to Byakuya that there were more ways to hurt Abarai Renji than just with Senbonzakura.

He failed to try hard enough.

Worse, he failed over…hair?


	2. Chapter 2

**Strategy and Tactics **

**Chapter 2**

By the time Renji was all patched up and they polished off every bit of Ikkaku's cooking, there was enough snow to wade through.

"Let's open a bottle of sake. You may as well stay over," Ikkaku offered. Renji looked outside, less than eager to force his tired body through the icy wind.

"Really, Renji. You can take my room. But there is a condition," Yumichika grinned, his eyes sparkling with intelligence.

"We will use our sake party to work on your drinking manners."

"When you try to learn any technique, it takes approximately 3,000 repetitions to make it stick. To integrate your neuromuscular circuitry, so to speak." Yumichika lifted his sake cup gracefully and sipped.

"By that I mean three thousand _correct_ repetitions. So…make it twenty thousand repetitions overall, accounting for those times you're still trying to get it right. That's what we do with punches, sword cuts…anything, really. Do you follow?"

"Yeah, I follow." Renji followed, his voice tinged with suspicion.

"We'll use the same principle for your table manners. I want you to sit up straight…yeah, like when you finish a sword cut. Now, place your cup on the table, like this."

Renji did. Ikkaku watched with interest.

"Now pick it up, like this. No, don't grasp it so. Lightly. Naturally. "

Renji gave it his best.

"Again…better…now bring it up to your lips and sip."

Renji drained half the cup.

"Sip, do not gulp. Try it again."

Ikkaku poured Renji more sake, and Renji practiced picking up the cup, lifting it just so, toasting with it, pouring from the bottle, all while his perfect posture was maintained by necessity by to keep the ends of his broken ribs from rubbing against one another.

"Mind the space around you. Own it. Extend your reiatsu to form a strong personal bubble…that's good." Yumichika assessed Renji's seiza, his energy, his sense of presence.

"Yeah, like that. That's good. You want to look natural. Look at Ikkaku. He does it all by himself. He isn't apologizing to anyone for anything. He just…is."

For the first time in months, since the time he and Byakuya had to retrieve Rukia from the Living World, Renji felt close to his own self again, his broad shoulders spread to occupy the full space they were entitled to. He smiled.

XXXXXXX

The morning light was bright with the light of the reflected snow. Snow removal squads were busy making thin paths between buildings as even more snow, now dry and powder-like, slowly drifted to the ground. The wind of the previous night abated and Renji was stunned to see beautiful, crystal-like ice coat the branches of the tree outside.

Before Renji had a chance to clean up and dress, a black Hell butterfly landed on his chest. He listened to the message, then recorded his own.

"I got snowed in at the 11th, taichou. I will be over as soon as I can."

He stepped out of Yumichika's room to let the Hell butterfly out.

"Guess what," he said to the two men preparing breakfast. "Kuchiki-taichou stopped by my quarters to check on me this morning but I wasn't there. He says I can take the day off if I need to go see the 4th division."

Yumichika and Ikkaku exchanged a meaningful glance.

"I bet he feels like crap," Ikkaku said, pouring tea.

"Why would he? I've had worse training injuries."

Yumichika looked up from arranging dried fruit on a platter. "Those injuries were due to your incompetence, not due to his lack of control. If he got as beat up as you say, it sounds like both of you got a bit carried away. Kuchiki-taichou would absolutely hate getting carried away."

Renji let the thoughts sink in. "You may be right. It really did feel like a fight. No warm-up, nothing. We bowed before and after, but still…"

"When you bow to one another in the dojo, you give one another permission to use the person's body in order to learn something," Ikkaku drawled, the sentence well-worn by repetition in training new recruits. "It's not a license for a full-out fight. Not even in 11th division."

"It's good we're sort of snowed in, Renji," Ikkaku said, his eyes crinkled in a sly smile. "This way you'll have enough time to go through my wardrobe and see if anything fits."

Renji looked at the two of them, appalled.

"No way guys. I couldn't possibly."

"Ikkaku and I discussed it," Yumichika said, his tone final. "Ikkaku hardly ever wears the kimonos and yukatas I buy for him, and he's running out of space."

"But that's expensive shit, man. I can't pay for those."

"So are sunglasses," Ikkaku said, serious. "I'd be happy to trade two items of clothing for one of your pairs of sunglasses. And you have a whole collection."

XXXXXX

Renji trudged from the 11th barracks laden with three yukatas and one long kimono, obis included. To his surprise, he found he was not sorry to let Ikkaku choose two pair of designer sunglasses from his collection. Aside from it being a fair deal, he didn't need to go shopping. His red and black leather jacket was awesome – and since he was enjoying it so much, having some cool traditional clothing, albeit new, was not necessarily a bad thing.

He smiled a tired smile at the memory of Yumichika's excitement. The black cotton yukata with gray and white cherry blossoms.

The long, silk kimono in shades of gold and crimson which matched not only the coloring of Ikkaku's eye tattoos, but also of Renji's hair and skin.

The deep green yukata with purple fish rubbings which made Zabimaru happy.

The gold-tone, black-silk embroidered kosode.

"You can wear your black hakama with any of these," Yumichika said, brimming with satisfaction. "As long as you wear your hair down like this, you'll look absolutely stunning, Renji."

His new treasures fit into his almost-empty chest. Along with a sense of resignation at having placed himself at Yumichika's mercy, Renji also felt a sense of excitement. True, he was out of his comfort zone. He never thought of clothing and how it fit him, how he wore it, how he should move the fuller sleeve when reaching for a cup on the table. Yet he had a goal in mind, a goal he was willing to pursue with single-minded zeal.

_Continue to pursue him, you mean._

Zabimaru chuckled in the back of his mind.

"You like the colors?"

_Yesssss._

XXXXXXX

Renji knocked on the office door before lunch and let himself in.

"Hello, taichou."

Byakuya sat over his stack of paperwork, shiny black hair bound in the kenseikan, his formerly broken hand wielding a brush with ease. He lifted his eyes to scrutinize his fukutaichou. His eyes stopped above Renji's brow, a split goose egg bisecting the lovely tattoo with what would surely become a scar. The wound was barely scabbed over. He saw Renji walk with easy grace and only he could tell the point at which he painfully held his breath to sit in his chair, easing his broken ribs in place.

"Did you not go to the 4th division to have your injuries taken care of?"

Renji measured his taichou's temper.

"_Own the space around you"._

Yumichika's words resonated in his mind. He felt his shoulders expand just a bit.

"My injuries are minor."

"Abarai. You are to report to the 4th division immediately."

"Yes, taichou." Renji knew an order when he heard one. He stood up heavily and walked out the door.

His hair was still down, Byakuya noticed. He spent the night at the 11th division barracks. He thought he'd be happy to see Renji with somebody else, off his hands, off his heels. He, however, did not expect to have feelings about it. A clenched heat in the pit of his stomach. Sudden shortness of breath. Lack of appetite. Tension headaches.

Byakuya began breathing deeply, focusing on those very centering exercises he did with Renji in the Living World. If this went on much longer, his fukutaichou would be the death of him.

XXXXXXX

"It's just a training injury, Unohana-taichou." The short, formidable woman looked at Renji from head to toe. She applied his hands to his ribs and his pain slowly diminished, his breathing becoming easier.

"The ribs will need a few more days to feel normal. You can finish healing that on your own. Now Hanatarou will take care of that forehead of yours. Scar removal is his specialty." Unohana looked at Renji again, her gaze somewhat defocused.

"Your reiatsu has...your reiatsu has not changed so much as have calmed down, Abarai-fukutaichou. It's under such good control, ne?"

Her statement was quizzical. Her dark, almost black eyes shone in her placid place as she smiled at Renji softly. She was the personification of motherly, feminine softness he never knew in his younger years.

"Sit down, Abarai-kun. I have some time."

They sat. Slowly, as though a skein of wool yarn untangling and winding into a tidy ball, Renji spun his tale of Gabriel. How he was blind and now he could see, he could even feel reiatsu. How he was practicing to control it, all on his own.

"Unohana-taichou…if it's not too much trouble…could somebody teach me how to do healing kido? Back when I was taught in the academy we got some lessons, but I was so hopeless…"

She raised her face to him and smiled. "I will tell Hanatarou."

XXXXXXX

Renji's step was light on the way back from the 4th. Nothing hurt. His forehead was whole, with only a bit of swelling and bruising where the nasty gash used to be. Furthermore, his perception of reiatsu has broadened under Hanatarou's brief instruction.

"Everything living has reiatsu in it. You can even feel it in plants, in your surroundings. Each system likes its own color. If you can supply that color, you can help the system heal. I want you to detect the color, the flavor, or the smell of reiatsu in everything you touch for the next week. Then come back." It was a bit fluffy and wasn't much but it was a start.

Renji arrived back at the 6th division office building to find Kuchiki-taichou supervise the pruning of broken branches of the large, old cherry tree in the courtyard. Last night's ice storm rendered the branches heavy with ice, and the wind gained purchase on the mass, breaking many.

"The trunk may be split. If it is, we should take the tree down, Kuchiki-taichou," the man with the axe said with apology in his voice.

Byakuya's expression did not betray the fact that the trees demise would sadden him greatly. Nor did his expression betray the fact that he felt ill-tempered all over. He felt Renji approach from behind.

"The tree got ruined, taichou?" Renji asked.

"So it seems."

"It might heal up by spring."

"Is that so."

Renji waded through the snow to the old cherry tree. He liked the tree. He spent many a lunchtime under its generous branches, laying on his back and tracing the intricate branches with his eyes. He placed his hands on the trunk. It was winter and with the tree being dormant, detecting its energy was hard. He closed his eyes and felt inside the bark, inside the growth rings of the old wood, down to the roots. Renji did not perceive color as much as a feeling of earthy aroma.

Byakuya watched Renji with thinly veiled curiosity. He saw his fukutaichou wet his shoes and hakama in the deep snow to approach the ailing sakura, running his large, warm hands up and down the ancient, peeling bark. He felt a gathering of reiatsu, and a thin glow appeared around Renji's hands. The energy expenditure exhausted him; unaccustomed to kido of this sort, Renji was bleeding power in the most inefficient manner. Before Byakuya decided whether or not help his fukutaichou's efforts, Renji opened his eyes and detached himself from the rough bark.

Slowly, his amber eyes opened; he found cherry bark digging into his cheek, rough under his hands.

"I believe this tree will be just fine."

He smiled at the man with the ax.

"If you could give me some of these branches, I'd be grateful."

XXXXXXX

Byakuya sat at his desk, his brush laden with ink, gliding over paper with effortless grace. Occasionally, his grey eye would steal a glance toward a large, ancient vase by the window. The cherry tree branches were arranged in the water, awaiting their second life. Procured and arranged by Renji. A small, ceramic sake bottle stood on Renji's desk, filled with water and two small cherry twigs. A covert glance showed Renji hard at work, his brush moving over paper forms. More damage reports, expense reports, requisition forms.

"Taichou. How about I get us some lunch?"

Lunchtime was almost over and the cafeteria would close soon.

"Go ahead, Abarai."

Not much longer, Byakuya heard mighty stomping by the door, then a familiar knock. Renji opened the door, brushing snow off his hakama while balancing two bento in his other hand.

"There wasn't much left, taichou. I got the hot stuff. Shall I make some tea?" Renji placed the two bento on the low table by the sofa.

"Go ahead, Abarai."

They sat down to eat their midday meal.

"Spicy enough, taichou?"

"Mmmm."

Renji smiled.

Byakuya's eyes strayed toward his fukutaichou's unproductive figure. He was seated at his desk, his hands gently clasped around the old sake jar. His eyes were closed, his reiatsu gathered around him.

"Abarai. What are you doing?"

"A kido detection assignment from the 4th, taichou."

Byakuya applied himself to his work. Everybody knew Renji had no capacity for kido. Whatever Renji was up to would surely pass soon and life would return to normal.

The ceramic container felt cool and smooth under Renji's palms. He thought he felt a faint trace of energy inside the cool water; a smidgeon more alien energy in the brown cherry branches. Renji sank his consciousness deeper in and suddenly he could smell the odor of soil, the taste of bitter, tannic wood. A faint pressure in his head grew steadily larger; long minutes passed. He relished in being able to _feel_ the remnants of dormant life from the old tree.

More time passed.

"Abarai." His taichou's voice did not carry any signs of the expected admonishment.

"Abarai-fukutaichou."

Renji opened his eyes painfully, his head suddenly throbbing with a dull ache, vision blurry.

"Yes, taichou?"

Byakuya's grey eyes were wide as he stood out of his chair and walked over to Renji's desk. A pale hand reached toward the old sake bottle in a reverent gesture.

Renji blinked to focus his sight and followed his captain's eyes.

The buds on the cherry twigs were swollen to bursting, a pale pink color peeking through the maroon sepals.

Wow. Holy shit. There was no way he could have done that.

_Nice going, baka._

Zabimaru's voice felt round with satisfaction.

Renji carried the modest container to Byakuya's desk.

"You think you can make some space for this, Kuchiki?" The irreverent, Living World form of address guaranteed Byakuya's attention.

Stunned, grey eyes wide and incredulous, the captain pushed a pile aside to make space for a small, ceramic sake bottle with cherry branches in full bloom.

"For you, Kuchiki."

Renji didn't meet his eyes, his cheeks dusted with pink flush as he returned to his chair. He picked up his brush and began to fill out the next form when his eyes begun to grow heavy. He yawned as his eyes begun to close and his head hit his paperwork with a dull, thunking sound.

Byakuya walked over to Renji with a bit of trepidation. He removed the loaded brush from his fingers, rinsed it, and stood it in the brush jar. He removed the unfinished form from underneath Renji's face, stroked his loose hair gently, and returned to his seat. As his brush danced over his papers, and as he moved onto the paper his fukutaichou was supposed to fill out as well, he was comforted by the happy thrumming of Renji's reiatsu next to him and the lovely, fragile cherry blossoms sprung out of snow on his desk.


	3. Chapter 3

_Hi everyone, I'm *so very sorry* for uploading the wrong 1__st__ chapter. Really. Here's a faster-than-planned update in lieu of apology __ Me, I'm all thumbs sometimes. I promise to be more careful with all those buttons._

**Chapter 3 – Strategy and tactics**

The snow melted, leaving the unpaved areas of Seireitei a muddy morasse. Kuchiki-taichou picked his way through puddles and ice of the paved streets with quiet resignation. He'd change his wet shoes and socks once he got to the office.

A movement to his right caught his attention – a familiar streak of red and black. Renji.

Renji was not only up and about at this early hour, he was…running. A group of divisional recruits followed in his wake, their hakama hiked up and bound, legs wet and muddied well past their knees. He briefly wondered whatever possessed his fukutaichou to carry out outdoor exercise while it was still practically dark outside, yet that question was only a surface query. It disguised a deeper, more troublesome aspect of what he witnessed. Something was off about Renji. Something…recent. Before he could refocus on the object of his scrutiny, the group of runners turned the corner and disappeared.

Renji looked a sight and he knew it. He knew he was late. His knuckles grazed the wood of the office door as he let his reiatsu flare a bit to announce his presence.

"Come in, Abarai." His captain's eyes lifted from his writing, scrutinizing Renji for that single, out-of-place feature he noticed earlier that morning. It was like finding a needle in a haystack, though – everything was off. Renji was splattered with mud up to his kosode, his wet hakama clung to his thighs, his chest was smeared with wetness of indeterminate origin and his hair was up, bound by a mud-splattered rag. The expression on his face was one of exceptional satisfaction.

"Good morning, taichou."

"You're late."

"Yes, I am, taichou." Renji stepped inside the office and closed the door. "I took the unit for morning exercises before breakfast today and we broke into some calisthenics afterward. They were all crazy with cabin fever, taichou. I figured with this mud, if everyone gets dirty training first thing in the morning they'll have a chance to clean up and change before work."

"But you didn't clean up and change, Abarai."

"Sorry, taichou. I tried to pick up breakfast at the cafeteria and the line was so long, I let the unit go first. Then they ran out of food. I should have just headed for the bath house." Renji shrugged. "It's not gonna kill me."

A Hell butterfly landed on Byakuya's desk. Renji listened to the message.

"There's an emergency captain's meeting, Abarai. I have to go." He looked him up and down. "If you go to my captain's quarters, you'll find dry tabi in the chest. My uniforms are unlikely to fit you. Unfortunately that's all I can offer you until I get back."

"Thank you, taichou." Renji's face lit up with a genuine, grateful smile and his eyes caught the grey of his captain's for a brief moment before Byakuya turned, only a stir of air marking his passing.

_That man._ Byakuya was livid with himself. _Excruciating, exasperating, stubborn, messy, childish…_ His string of mental invectives only served to suppress the wild, happy feeling at seeing Renji's wet uniform cling to his wet body, a smudge of dirt streaked up his jawline. The mud. Byakuya found the look of mud disturbingly arousing.

Renji's happy grin reminded him of other times he saw that careless expression. Renji skateboarding. Renji cheating at cards. Renji with a glass of cognac in his hands, his eyes closing in delight at that dark, chocolate mousse…

_Abarai is developing a relationship with somebody else. It's just as well. There is no need to complicate matters._

Yet the thought of Renji with Ayasegawa-san hardened Byakuya's gaze and set his jaw tight, so much so that his blustery arrival to the captains' meeting hall drew veiled interest. Unohana kept gently smiling. Ukitake glanced at Kyoraku, who raised his eyebrow. Kenpachi grinned. Whatever riled Kuchiki Byakuya's composure must have made a fine story indeed.

Unohana-taichou presided over the meeting with Yamamoto-soutaicho's blessing, advising captains on the measures adopted to keep the troops clean, dry, and healthy.

"Especially with the younger recruits who do are not able to control their body temperature using their reiatsu, illness can develop if the body is kept wet and cold. Therefore…" Byakuya tuned her out, his thoughts meandering back to the wet, wild, mud-splattered spectacle of Abarai Renji.

XXXXXXX

Byakuya never knocked on his own office door. As he was removing his wet wooden geta which so efficiently kept his last dry pair of tabi dry, he felt a spike in Renji's reaitsu.

"What did you promise, Renji?"

"I know…look, this is an exceptional situation."

"You said you'd obey me. I don't see you obeying me now."

Voices grew hushed for a bit. Byakuya strained his ears.

"If you don't do as I say I'm cutting you off, Renji."

A loud sigh followed, then heavy silence. "I am sorry, Yumichika."

Byakuya allowed his reiatsu to flare with an icy blast as he walked through the door. The two men at Renji's desk startled. Yumichika Ayasegawa stood behind Renji, his hands on Renji's hair. The red, silken tresses were down as Yumichika finished braiding the sides, catching the thin plaits back in a length of black silk ribbon.

"I will thank you for not harassing my fukutaichou during office hours, Ayasegawa-san." Byakuya's voice came out colder, harder than he intended and his reiatsu filled the room with heavy, aggressive pressure.

"My apologies, Kuchiki-taichou. I just came to deliver these completed mission reports." Yumichika picked up a bound stack of paper off Renji's desk and glided over to Byakuya, placing them in his hands with a discrete bow.

As he was leaving, he shot a look in Renji's direction. "Later, Renji."

Renji's riled, disordered reiatsu warred for space with Byakuya's, each one politely not seeing the distress of the other.

_Unreasonable, pompous peacock. Like I could lead exercises in this muck with my hair down. Like I had time to go wash up and change. _

Renji seethed. The 13th division sake party was this weekend, and Yumichika wanted him to wear one of his new outfits.

_Ye have to get out of your comfort zone, remember?_

Zabimaru chuckled in the back of his mind. Renji felt the world was conspired against him. A loud sigh escaped him.

Byakuya slid his glance toward his fukutachou. It pained him to see Renji look so defeated. He wondered why. Although Ayasegawa-san had a good point – Renji was splattered in dry mud, his uniform disordered. He wondered at Renji's chafe at having to _obey_ Ayasegawa. Obey in what way? Was their relationship unhealthy? His fukutaichou should bow to no one.

Having centered himself, his fierce anger receded and jealousy carefully filed away until later, Byakuya turned to the red-haired man.

"If you go bathe and change now, Abarai, you'll still have time for lunch."

He saw Renji lift his head, their eyes carefully not meeting. "Yes, taichou."

"If you come have lunch here in the office, I'll be happy to return the favor from last week."

Now Renji met the wide, grey eyes. The storm seemed to have passed, the clouds in those eyes having warmed up, reminiscent of warm, summer rains.

"Thank you, taichou. I'll be back soon, then."

Byakuya returned to his work, but his gaze strayed. The cherry branches in their humble sake container, perched on the corner of his desk, were in full bloom.

XXXXXXX

By Friday night the streets were almost dry, the snow gone, temperatures back to the cool winter climate maintained at Seireitei this time of the year. Renji obeyed Yumichika to the letter. He went home after work, showered, brushed his hair just so, and donned the green yukata with purple fish. It was a bit loud, but Zabimaru liked it. It felt odd to dress up just to go drinking with friends, but at least he wasn't doing it alone. Both Yumichika and Ikkaku promised to change out of their uniforms so Renji didn't feel too conspicuous.

"You have to actually practice wearing the clothing," Yumichika informed him in no uncertain tone. "The fit isn't the same as our uniforms. The sleeves are wider, the body's more fitted. You have to get the hang of it so you don't dip your sleeves in food and knock cups over." Yumichika spoke like one who knew this from experience, and Renji complied.

"Oooh, nobody told me we're dressing up!" Rangiku pouted her full, lovely lips. "I'll be back in a bit."

"Is she going back to change?" Renji asked, incredulous.

"No doubt. Rangiku will never miss out on an opportunity to get out of her uniform," Kira laughed, his eyes showing sympathy.

"Next thing you'll be dressing up," Shuuhei stuck his elbow in Kira's side.

"I just might," Kira said, his face serious.

Few hours later, Yumichika's laughing violet eyes met Renji's.  
"It's time."

"No way…too early." Renji reached for a bottle to refill his cup, and Yumichika was gratified to see that his lessons bore fruit. Renji's sleeve draped with natural grace, his movements fluid. He lifted his cup to his lips in a smooth motion and sipped.

Ikkaku snickered. Yumichika glared at him, then turned his hard eyes at Renji again.

"You promised."

"Yeah yeah I'm _obeying_ already." Just to be contrary, he knocked the rest of the sake back with his old vigor, and grinned.

"What's with you, guys?" Rangiku looked both confused and concerned.

"I need my beauty sleep," Renji said. "It's a heavy price to pay…"

Kira, Shuuhei, and Matsumoto exchanged looks as the three left the inn.

"Something's up," Rangiku said. "I want to know what it is. Anybody wants to come with me?"

XXXXXXX

"I really don't see why we need to go home so soon. It's only midnight." Renji leaned against the stone wall, reticence barely hidden in his deep amber eyes.

"If you lean against the wall in this kosode, you'll fray the silk trim."

"This is a pain in the butt, Yumichika."

"You're quitting already?" Yumichika's voice was taunting, challenging.

"And tomorrow you want me to wear a long kimono to Kyoraku's party. You're nuts. I'll stick out like a sore thumb."

"Renji. I thought our relationship is pretty well established by our mutual agreement."

Renji sighed. He was the recipient of Yumichika's considerable expertise at personal grooming and carriage, his excellent ideas at catching his captain's eye once again, his and Ikkaku's extensive wardrobe and logistical support. He never knew how complicated looking beautiful could be. But all that support came at a heavy price.

"Yes, Yumichika. I promised to obey you." Renji grinned, his sarcastic expression not tainting his submissive tone. He swung a soft fist at Yumichika, who deftly dodged the friendly cuff.

"Off to bed with you, then," Yumichika said, his voice light and cheerful.

"Yes, master."

Byakuya could hardly believe his ears. His reiatsu tightly wound around his center, his nighttime walk took him to the walled garden when he detected the familiar, warm reiatsu of his fukutaichou. And the controlled reiatsu of Ayasegawa-san. He felt the resentment emanating from Renji. Then, the words of submission. Byakuya frowned. He didn't know much about the relationship between his lieutenant and Ayasegawa, but he didn't like the implications of Renji's promise to "obey". This attitude, this relationship could spill over into Abarai Renji's work life. Into Byakuya's life. Not for the first time, Byakuya experienced a pang of regret for having rejected Renji's advances several weeks ago.

He didn't know how to take those words back.

XXXXXXX

Matsumoto Ranjiku walked between Kira and Hisagi, her arms looped through theirs. She enjoyed the warmth of their bodies. They tried their best to be quiet.

"We should sneak up."

"There is no cover."

"Ikkaku already went to his room, though."

Their eyes followed the taller redhead, his hair spilling over the unusually bright, green top. Yumichika walked next to him and event though he reached only up to his shoulders, Yumichika seemed very much in charge.

"I wonder what's going on." Hisagi Shuuhei's voice was dark with worry. Few things would upset him as much as seeing his friends in pain, whether inflicted by the enemy or by themselves and their stupid love triangles.

"They went to Renji's room," Rangiku stated the obvious. "We could eavesdrop."

Hisagi was about to object when Kira's bright blue eyes met his, melancholy replaced by mischief.

"Let's, Shuuhei."

Not long after, the three were huddled on the porch, their heads almost touching the shoji door leading to the courtyard.

"Put it on." Yumichika's voice was encouraging, soothing.

"Awww, c'm on, Yumi. I'll feel like an idiot.

"This part goes here, like this." Yumichika slid a kimono sleeve over Renji's arm. "And this goes here…" The long, elaborate garment settled on Renji's shoulders.

He handed Renji a simple, well-made obi.

"Yeah, and this goes in the middle." Seeing himself in the mirror, he took another appraising look. He liked what he saw. He moved around some. "It doesn't feel as bad as I feared, Yumi."

"See? Nothing wrong with trying something new." A few beats of silence.

"Ow! Yumi, that's too tight!"

"Shh, just align yourself a little better…there…hush. How does this feel?" Yumichika's tone was solicitous, soothing.

"Ahh...yeah, that's totally hot. I never knew you could do shit like that…" Renji turned before the mirror, inspecting himself, his carriage proud, his slim hips and broad shoulders accentuated by the tightly-wound black obi.

"Again?"

"Again." Practice makes perfect, and Yumichika didn't plan on being handy to dress his friend and student every day.

Hisagi tugged on Kira and Rangiku's sleeves. They detached themselves only after some hesitation. When enough distance spanned between them and the building, Kira said.

"What are they into? Bondage?"

"Yumichika is definitely in charge," Rangiku said. "In charge of what, though?"

"I wonder if Ikkaku knows," Shuuhei said mournfully. "Man, this is gonna hit him hard."

The dark, cloaked shadow in the corner of the courtyard heard every word. His displeased expression wasn't quite a frown, his tightly bound reiatsu didn't betray his presence nor his emotions. This is what he wanted…didn't he? Abarai Renji in the hands of another lover, off his hands, off his heels. So why did it feel like something deep inside him was breaking…like tomorrow didn't matter much, like his days were destined to be filled with pain and regret regardless of his actions? A sense of hopelessness infused him. His feet carried him away, not home but through the Seireitei for another one of his sleepless, restless walks. Two hours later, when all decent people were deep asleep, he noticed a light burning in the captain's quarters of the 13th division.

His feet carried him there absently. He knocked on the door frame and it opened, a vision with a halo of mussed, white hair and a smile looking at him with searching, brown eyes.

"Come in, Bya-kun."

Two pairs of arms settled him down into a nest of pillows, hands pressed a small, warm cup into his cold hands.

"Thank you. I just…don't sleep well lately." His eyes were haunted, staring into emptiness.

Ukitake and Kyoraku locked their eyes knowingly.

Kyoraku smiled. 


	4. Chapter 4

_**This chapter was hard to write. It's rated K+ for adult themes. A whiff of lemon in the air…be forewarned.**_

_Disclaimer: Bleach world and characters belong to Tite Kubo._

**Chapter 4 – "Strategy and tactics"**

Bottles were set out on the bar, trays of cups sat on the table. Snacks were prepared, ready for release in strategic intervals. Kyoraku placed the last blades of winter grass in a tall, imperial-style arrangement. He took several steps back to admire his handiwork. Cherry blossoms forced on branches, ready to burst, donated by Kuchiki-taichou. Dried flowers, evergreens with both needles and berries collected from past the snowy Rukongai. It was supposed to hint at the Living World Christmas holiday, albeit a little early.

"Looks good," Ukitake smiled, his arms snaking around Kyoraku's waist from behind. "Do you think Bya-kun will come?"

Kyoraku sighed, a sad smile passing like a shadow over his unshaven face.

"I think he'll feel obliged, since his flowers are here." Kyoraku leaned into Ukitake, feeling his warmth.

"Odd how he wouldn't tell us anything, don't you think, Juushiro?"

Ukitake Juushiro, captain of the 13th division, smiled. "His very reticence to talk about even business-related aspects of his Living World mission is telling us a great deal…now, where do you think we should put the mistletoe?"

XXXXXXX

Renji went down his to-do checklist. He was clean, his nails were clean, his toenails were clean, his hair was brushed and drying…and the dreaded long, gold and maroon kimono was laid out on his futon, staring at him. Even with a kosode underneath he'd feel cold in the biting wind outside. He so much wanted to slip into his Living World trousers and shirt, the comfortable, red and black leather jacket keeping the heat next to his skin.

"Too obvious," Yumichika declared. "You don't want to appear easy. Even though you are." Renji aimed a cuff at the smaller man's shoulder; Yumichika dodged it easily, his brow feathers swaying lightly with the movement.

"Remember, do as I say and you will be fine."

Last thing on his list: a small box, wrapped in an extravagant manner. Even a faux Christmas was a convenient gift-giving holiday, and Rukia was happy to obtain this simple item for him.

XXXXXX

Guests mingled, drinks in hand, the next conversation always more interesting than the last one. The younger shinigami clustered in groups, uncertain as to the protocol of interaction with their superior officers in a social setting. Ukitake greeted everyone, Kyoraku offered everyone a glass of something to drink. Hisagi Shuuhei operated a strange Living World musical device.

Byakuya looked around, a cup of sake in his hand. He sipped some politely, looking around at various clusters of partiers in conversation. He felt ensconced in a curious shell of silence. No desire to discuss anything with anyone, no news to share. In deference to his hosts' wishes, he arrived out of uniform and that drew some curious glances from the younger crowd. Another half hour and he'd feel free to leave and pick up the book he was reading.

A stir through the crowd directed his attention to the door. There was Ikkaku, his tall, broad frame clad in a long, maroon kimono. Yumichika followed, dressed more flamboyantly in a rich green hakama and a silk turquoise kosode embroidered with bell-like, white flowers. Trust Ayasegawa to dress up for the occasion, Byakuya thought morosely. He was not well-disposed toward the 11th division 5th seat, not since evidence of a relationship between him and his fukutaichou came to his attention.

Yet…Ayasegawa seemed well-attached to Madarame Ikkaku this evening. Byakuya wanted to frown, but did not allow himself the comfort of doing so. He lifted his drink to his lips, observing the two approach the bar from underneath his hooded, steel-gray eyes.

The flamboyant couple was greeted by an equally flamboyantly attired trio. Matsumoto was known to dress up, but…Hisagi? Kira? Byakuya glanced at them but obliquely, noticing the bright colors of men and women out of uniform. At least his heavily embroidered, gray and blue silk did not appear too out of place. Another ten minutes and he was free.

The door opened again. Boots stomped hard, shaking off the freshly fallen snow. Byakuya raised his eyes at the cadence of the familiar gait. Abarai Renji was bent over, slipping his western-style leather boots off, his feet emerging in traditional white tabi. He unzipped his red and black leather jacket, ready to take it off, looking for a pile to place it on.

"Renji…what did I tell you." Yumichika was suddenly by Renji's side. His face was stern, violet eyes gray with disapproval.

Byakuya saw Renji bend his head down to the smaller man; words were exchanged. The smaller man turned his back in exasperation, then, unable to stay away he faced Renji again.

"Let me see that." He helped Renji pull the tighter garment off the heavy kimono sleeves. "I'll be holding onto this."  
"Hell no you won't. I got that from taichou." Renji's voice was deceptively light. Byakuya knew that tone and smiled inwardly. Yumichika had something to discover about his fukutaichou's stubborn streak.

"It wrinkles the silk." Yumichika stepped back a few steps, jacket in hand.

Faster than thought, Renji appeared behind Yumichika, the garment suddenly secure in his large hands.

"Let it go, Yumi. You won't win this one."

Yumichika pouted and Byakuya's heart soared.

_Way to go, Renji. Defend your space._

He decided that staying at the Christmas party a while longer might prove interesting – after all, he did want to find out more about the unhealthy relationship his second-in-command seemed to have with the 5th seat of the 11th division.

Time passed, idle conversations purposely tuned out. He saw Renji glide over to Hisagi. They greeted, apparently inspecting and discussing Hisagi's music machine. Observing Renji in his native element was a revelation. He was relaxed around his friends, his company sought out, his smile friendly. Byakuya found he didn't like the formal kimono on Renji. It seemed too restrictive. Like putting a bird of prey in a gilded cage. The loose hair looked good…

_His hair is of no consequence._

His hair gleamed in the light like liquid fire. The webbing between Byakuya's fingers itched with the physical memory of its soft touch and he felt a sudden urge to groan. Quickly he turned away and, spotting several unoccupied seating cushions behind a waist-high partition, he retired from the busy spectacle.

His ears picked up music other than the usual Christmas carols. Vaguely familiar…the composition featured violin. His eyelids lowered to better immerse himself in the texture of the sound, tuning out the din of the party. He felt the engaging lilt of the melody with his very heart as his memory took him to a storage room off a dingy diner kitchen. A girl-child with a good violin, a serious look in her eyes.

_I hope she was accepted into the orchestra._

He felt the cushion next to him dip with extra weight.

"Good evening, taichou."

Byakuya cracked his eyes open halfway.

"Good evening, Abarai."

Byakuya's eyes were forced opened all the way in amazement. Foregoing his customary sprawl, Abarai Renji sat in a proper seiza next to him, having just settled gracefully. He peered into his cup.

"Allow me to refresh your drink, taichou."

With considerable surprise and fascination, Byakuya watched his stray dog fukutaichou adjust his full kimono sleeve with practiced ease as he reached for a warm bottle of sake. He topped off his cup, then his own. The ceramic bottle carefully settled down on a low table, Renji picked up his cup and raised a toast in Byakuya's direction.

"Merry Christmas, Kuchiki."

"Abarai." Byakuya's tone was reproachful.

"Uh…sorry, taichou. Since we're out of uniform…" He flashed him his high-voltage grin to cover his nervousness, his other hand stuck firmly to his thigh to disguise the fine trembling. He sipped and put his sake down.

"If you will pardon me for being so forward…" Byakuya startled at his wild fukutaichou's unusually formal language as Renji reached inside his kimono sleeve and pulled out a small rectangular object. He presented it to Byakuya with both of his hands, bowing slightly.

"Merry Christmas."

_Merry Christmas, Byakuya._

Byakuya accepted the object, studying the red silk printed with white cherry blossoms. Curiosity seized him.

"Do you wish me to open it now?"

"If you want…taichou."

Byakuya raised his eyes to his lieutenant's to find them downcast, his otherwise tan face pale as winter clouds. His broad shoulders were extended into their space by force alone and Byakuya could just _feel_ Renji's desire to shrink away and become small, hardly noticeable.

"Very well."

Renji observed the slender, pale fingers undo the intricately folded length of silk. With trepidation, he saw his captain lift a small box made of grey cardboard. It contained a bottle.

"'Speed Cream Lubricant'?" Byakuya's low voice was incredulous, his beautifully carved face grim, forcing the light sprinkling of blush on his cheekbones away.

"Abarai-fukutaichou. What is the meaning of this?"

Renji felt his captain's oppressive reiatsu lash out at him. He didn't flinch, meeting Byakuya's eyes head-on. He felt the dismay in the hard, steel-grey eyes.

Renji allowed his reiatsu to flare out in response.

"I thought you'd enjoy this lubricant for your skateboard's wheels, taichou. I got one for mine, too. Since you are such a natural at it, perhaps you'd enjoy practicing on the smooth parts of the training grounds…except the wheels will get slower if they aren't properly maintained." Renji felt silent, gauging the other's reaction. The spiritual pressure eased somewhat.

"So this…lubricant…is for the skateboards?"

"Yes, taichou." It took every bit of control for Renji not to crack a smile. "I really enjoyed boarding with you, taichou. If you'd like…when the weather gets better…we could do it again."

Renji forcibly detached his hand from his thigh, shook his sleeve back gracefully, and reached for his cup of sake. He raised it to his lips with easy grace and sipped, placing it back. He didn't know whether Byakuya would even notice how his tattooed skin flashed from underneath, appearing and then disappearing, but Yumichika trained him in that particular move and it was worth a shot.

"Thank you, Renji."

Byakuya felt a sense of ridicule over such a simple misunderstanding…surely his fukutaichou wouldn't give him…

_Enough. Those thoughts are inappropriate. Abarai is with Ayasegawa now. _

He picked up his cup of sake and touched it to the one in his lieutenant's hand.  
"Merry Christmas, Renji."

"Merry Christmas, Byakuya." Renji's words were mere whisper, uttered discreetly for their ears only. His reiatsu reached out for the loose, searching tendrils of Byakuya's and as they touched, he felt a curious mixture of comfort and calm.

Byakuya's eyebrows shot upward, yet he did not pull back.

Renji breathed a sigh of relief.

"You're under a mistletoe, guys, you have to kiss now!"

Yachiru's young voice resounded, bright as a jingle-bell as she held a sprig of mistletoe over their heads.

"It's for luck. It's a tradition. Everyone's gotta do it." Her voice was solemn, serious.

"It's a tradition," Renji said, feigned resignation in his voice.

"It's a tradition," Byakuya replied, his voice calm and collected. Who was he to complain in the line of duty?

Their knees shifted closer together and their reiatsu entwined, they put their sake cups down as one. Their hands met, Byakuya's riding up Renji's arms all the way up to his neck, embedding those strong, graceful fingers in his hair. They leaned closer and closer.

_It's tradition. No harm in honoring an age-old tradition._

Their lips brushed, the touch light and tentative. Renji parted his lips ever so slightly, inviting contact. Byakuya's fingers were twined 'round his vermillion tresses and he felt a slight tug, bringing him even closer. Their lips pressed together harder, tongues touching gently, heat pooling in Byakuya's belly, a hardness pressing against Renji's fundoshi. The pleasure of Byakuya's tongue on the inside of Renji's lip was so sweet, so unexpected, so overwhelming.

Renji's hands grazed Byakuya's sides, wrapping his large hands around slim hips. Byakuya allowed a low, silent gasp to mingle with Renji's breath and Renji realized Byakuya's knee was between Renji's thighs. Renji's knee grazed against Byakuya's groin, well-disguised by his captain's hakama. The air grew thin and Renji didn't think he could bear the sweetness any longer. Strong hands tugged his long hair again as he felt himself enveloped in a tight cloak of Byakuya's reiatsu and he didn't think he could…his hips ground slightly against Byakuya's knee. He felt a soft moan escape him as reiatsu flared unchecked.

_Oh no, no. NO!_

His closed eyes rolled back in his sockets and his pleasure peaked suddenly in an embarrassing, adolescent surge and Byakuya found himself with a heavy armful of an almost unconscious fukutaichou.

"What happened to him, Byakushi?"

"Just a dizzy spell. They happen to him sometimes," Byakuya answered glibly, suddenly irrationally protective of his…_Renji._

"You knocked him out pretty well," Kenpachi cackled.

"He hasn't been himself lately." Byakuya adjusted his own painful seat, allowing Renji to sprawl next to him, his head on his lap.

"Kenpachi, more sake, please."

Before the night was over, he was sure he would need it.

XXXXXXX

Renji came to realize that his head was in his captain's lap. He had a sudden sense of déjà-vu.

"Did my gigai knock me out again?"

"I'm afraid not, Abarai." Byakuya's mind was racing under his composed countenance.

_Think of this as a Hollow attack. Routine injury, nothing more._

Renji was warm with that light, flushed afterglow feeling along with a sticky, wet sensation below the waist. _Damn. _He hoped nobody noticed. He hoped his captain didn't notice. His color rose some more.

"You're not feeling well, Abarai. Please make yourself comfortable until it's safe for you to stand up."

Byakuya leaned against the wall, his legs crossed so that Renji's head and shoulder were properly supported. He reached for his sake. Now it was damage-control time. Just about everyone in this room felt that massive reiatsu surge which so hastily…escaped…his fukutaichou. The only thing to do was to blame it on his famous lack of reiatsu control. And, to kiss everybody else. If everybody else in the room will felt equally embarrassed, then perhaps their attention will be distracted…

Byakuya's left hand stroked Renji's smooth, red hair out of his face. He leaned closer to his face.

"Abarai-fukutaichou. Your reiatsu control needs further work. However, we need to honor this ancient Christmas tradition to the fullest. This is what we will do…in the line of duty."

Their eyes met.  
"Hai, taichou."

XXXXXXX

Yumichika trudged through the deepening snow next to Renji, feeling Kuchiki-taichou's gaze bore a hole through his back. Ikkaku was on Yumichika's other side, his expression bemused.

"You sure kiss well, Renji," he said, his red-tattooed eyes crinkled in amusement. "I hope you won't try to distract me with that next time we spar."

"Shaddap."

"Looks like you managed to distract several divisions…"

"Shut your trap unless you wanna pay later, Ikkaku." Renji's voice was pained with embarrassment.

"But you and Kuchiki got closer, ne? See, it worked. Even though your leather jacket wrinkles the kimono sleeves." Yumichika looked downright victorious. Then his eyebrows knitted together in a delicate frown.

"By the way, I don't think your captain likes me very much. He wouldn't kiss me under the mistletoe."


	5. Chapter 5

_**Greetings to all, and thank you for your thoughtful reviews! Hope you enjoy this next chapter.**_

_Disclaimer: Bleach world and characters belong to Tite Kubo._

**CHAPTER 5 – "Strategy and Tactics"**

Kuchiki Byakuya sat at his desk unusually early that Monday morning. His fukutaichou occasionally surprised him by arriving before his appointed hour, and Byakuya didn't wish to be surprised that day. His brush floated effortlessly, the words composed in his mind with unyielding certainty before being immortalized in the annals of Gotei 13 bureaucracy.

His eyes slid over to Renji's desk occasionally. There, next to stacks of incoming papers, stood a small wooden box. Byakuya thought long and hard about a Christmas gift for his fukutaichou. First, he came to a decision that he should, indeed, reciprocate and give one. Other taichous, apparently, exchanged gifts with their fukutaichous and it would have been poor manners on his part if he neglected his duties in this respect.

Second, he considered what the gift should be. Renji, his Abarai, his Friday. The man who was changing under his very eyes, and Byakuya was quite certain that he disapproved of the direction of that change. Sunday was spent contemplating what was, what is, and what could be. The wooden box sat still, undisturbed as ink marked paper silently in swoops both ancient and graceful.

XXXXXXX

Renji approached the 6th division headquarters with a sinking heart. He would be there. A recollection of Saturday's party shot through his body with a physical memory and Renji fought down a sense of embarrassment as his lips tingled in sweet recollection. There was no help for it: he'd have to face his taichou sooner or later. Renji remembered to straighten up and own the space around him as he approached the familiar door.

"Good morning, taichou."

Renji slipped off his wet shoes and bee-lined for his desk. So far, no conversation. So far so good. He took his seat, his eyes immediately spotting the simple, polished wooden box.

Renji cleared his throat.

"Taichou…do you know what this is?" He lifted the box curiously.

"I do, Abarai."

Renji turned to him. "Well what is it, taichou?"

"Merry Christmas, Renji."

His large hands slid the smooth lid to the side as Renji smiled in anticipation.

"Thank you, taichou."

Renji pulled out an object made of fabric; curious, he unfolded the assymetrical trapezoid. There was another, and another…four altogether, three white and one black. All adorned with a small, painted cherry blossom in a discreet corner.

"Taichou? What are these?"

Renji watched Byakuya put his brush away. The slighter man stood up from his chair and walked over.

"It appears you lost your hair band, Abarai. I hope these will serve you well." Byakuya's expression was impassive, his gaze a neutral, blank gray.

"Ah…thank you, taichou. They will be very handy."

Now what. Renji had an agreement with Yumichika to wear his hair down. He knew Byakuya liked it that way. Yet…the whole purpose of the arrangement was to help Renji get closer to his captain. Not using a gift would run contrary to that ultimate goal.

Byakuya stood still, patient. Renji was an open book, the expressions and thoughts passing over his face at war with one another. Suddenly conscious of his captain's prolonged presence, Renji lifted a length of fine linen between his fingers.

"Would you like me to try one?"

"I would be pleased if you would choose to wear one."

Renji reached into his drawer and pulled out a hair comb. He untied the thong on the back of his head which bound two thin side-braids together. Under his captain's calm gaze, Renji loosened the offending plaits, put his hair up into a ponytail, and carefully tied his new hair band around. Without the benefit of a mirror, he looked at his captain uncertainly.

"Like this?"

Byakuya took a step forward and reached out with sinewy, tekkou-clad hands to make a quick adjustment.

"Most satisfactory, Abarai." Renji saw his grey eyes warm with a hint of a smile.

Byakuya crossed the space to his own desk and picked up a packet of paper.

"This needs to go to the 11th division."

"Yes, taichou."

Renji took the forms and disappeared out the door. His uncertain startlement was not lost on his captain, whose eyes rested on a small, blooming cherry blossom branch.

XXXXXXX

"It's a gift and I'm wearing it."

"But your hair, Renji. We agreed that's one of your best assets." Yumichika didn't pout. He was too angry to pout and an outright frown would have been unbeautiful.

"Consider the final goal, Yumi. And look: there is a little painted cherry blossom in the corner. That has to mean something, doesn't it?"

"We had a deal, Renji. All of my work, all of my time, and it's all for nothing." Yumichika seethed, his reiatsu gathering slightly. Truth be told, he enjoyed doing a makeover for Renji and he was far from done. He felt his project slipping out of his grasp.

A strong wall of reiatsu pressed against Renji's back. He recognized it immediately and turned.

"Zaraki-taichou."

"Abarai. Welcome back to the 11th. Good to see you hang out in a division of real men again." Zaraki punched his shoulder with mild affection.

"I see you don't wear your hair down after that disaster few days ago. Was it too much for the Princess to resist?" Zaraki's wild grin had a good bit of mischief in it.

"I beg your pardon, Zaraki-taichou?" Flustered, Renji assumed his best-ever ice prince expression.

"Oh no, it's contagious. Now we'll have an ice princess and a fire prince."

Renji was speechless.

"I said the hair looked better down, taichou, but Kuchiki-taichou disagrees. He even gave Renji new hair bands." Thick fingers tugged on Renji's new hair band.

"I see he even marked you with his favorite flower. Prissy princess that he is."

Zaraki's reiatsu pushed a wee little bit more and Renji felt a hot flush in his belly spread to his extremities in response.

"Zaraki-taichou, please do not refer to my captain in those terms."

"Or what?" Zaraki Kenpachi swaggered. This was fun.

"Or you'll be sorry." The words were out before he could bite them back, accompanied by a massive reiatsu flare.

"Kuchiki is a prissy princess who can't land a decent blow without his girly shikai," Zaraki said.

"I challenge you to a duel." Renji's voice escaped as though disembodied, words forming without the assistance of his cerebral cortex.

XXXXXXX

The air was thick with reaitsu, only some of which was Kenpachi's and Renji's. The 11th division training grounds were surrounded by 11th division shinigami. A duel was a weekly occurrence at the 11th. Even though dueling by captains was officially prohibited, the 11th took a somewhat different interpretation and reported their duels under "training".

"OK then. I'll be your referee. The rules are, anything goes. You break property, you fix it. First knock-out rules apply. If Abarai wins, our taichou will say that Kuchiki-taichou isn't a prissy princess who can't fight without his girly shikai."

The crowd snickered; Ikkaku played to them as their master of ceremonies.

"If Abarai loses, he'll get carried to his division like a girl!"

The crowd howled in delight.

Ikkaku cleared the space, joined by Yachiru.

"Weird eyebrows-chan came to play with Ken-chan!" She clapped her hands.

Yumichika leaned against a wall, curious. It wasn't supposed to go down like this, but it wasn't without its entertainment value. This was, after all, the 11th division.

XXXXXXX

Byakuya was right in the middle of making his ten o'clock tea when he felt a massive surge of Renji's reiatsu. He poured a bit of hot water over the tea leaves, let them steep to a count of forty, and poured the water out, tea leaves undisturbed. A reiatsu flare from Renji could mean only one thing: he was finally standing up to Ayasegawa Yumichika.

Byakuya poured fresh, hot water over the rinsed tea leaves and endured the prescribed time period for the tea to brew. Delicate, fresh fragrance of last year's early summer inundated his senses and he allowed his eyes to dim in pleasure. He waited. He poured. He carried his cup to his desk and sat down. Eyes still half shut in anticipated pleasure of the first, best taste of tea during his work day, he reached his hand to grasp the cup, absorbing its warmth through his fingers.

Another massive reiatsu flare. And another, and another…and wait. Byakuya let go of his teacup. That was Kempachi's reiatsu.

He briefly considered whether or not to involve himself. The fight was under way and there wasn't much he could do to stop the two if they decided to go at it. Yet watching his fukutaichou take on the 11th division captain might prove interesting. Byakuya flash-stepped to the 11th division training grounds, not knowing how long Renji would last.

XXXXXXX

Waves of hot, searing reiatsu washed over Renji. His zanpakuto in shikai, he aimed another blow at Kenpachi as he focused every shred of his mind on his own reiatsu. Byakuya's words resonated in his mind.

"_I want you to ground and center, always."_

Earlier anger has dissipated once he centered himself and all that was left was the fight.

He could see the yellow swirls of Kenpachi's power stir the air, raising dust into desert storms, flinging painful particles into his face, his eyes. His own reiatsu described a protective shell outside his body – and this shell was all that stood between him and being flatted by the immense power wielded by the infamous and deadly Zaraki-taichou. His movement felt hampered. If he could think only of grounding and centering, he couldn't think of fighting. Sticky warmth oozed from his left shoulder where he barely leaned out of a kesa-giri cut. His face was nicked by a close call; a thrust got past his defenses early on, penetrating his quadricep.

"You think too much, Renji!" Zaraki's grin widened, his canines glinting obscenely in the sun. "You used to be faster than that."

Not wasting breath on a response, Renji dug down deep.

"_I want you to ground and center, always."_

Zabimaru keened in his mind, begging for release. He could feel his zanpakutou's glee, reflecting his inner response to Kenpachi's savage force. He swung again, marveling at the older man's speed and technique. His shikai was avoided with a hit-oi-mee move: a simple evasion back, then an attack back to the front. Zabimaru growled. Renji relented.

"Hihio, Zabimaru!"

The long, serpentine length of steel transformed into a long skeleton bound by fiery-red light and Zabimaru's skeletal jaw grinned in satisfaction. The Bankai almost contained the whole training ground; Zabimaru snaked around, a kido ball forming, ready to fire.

Kenpachi jumped on Zabimaru's skeleton, running up a section of a coil and dismounting few steps away from Renji.

"Thanks for the bridge, kid." He grinned. "Your captain's a prissy princess with a girly shikai." He raised his sword.

Byakuya heard the words. He also saw Kenpachi advance on Renji in close quarters. Renji's bankai was entirely unsuitable for close-quarters fighting. He saw Renji pull his power into himself; as Kenpachi cut down, Renji moved his hips out and away with his zanpakuto receding to its sword form. A ball of light shot out of Renji's hand. It was small but fast and it hit Kenpachi in the foot, making him stumble to the side.

"You punk. The 11th doesn't use kido." Zaraki-taichou's yellow gaze turned cold, predatory.

"I'm with the 6th." Renji deflected a cut, his hand describing a circular motion; an incantation was lost in the clash of steel but Byakuya saw thin, gold ropes of kido bind Zaraki's sword arm to his body.

He watched Zaraki grin fiercely, his reiatsu easily burning through the hado spell. With the hilt of his sword, within the space of one step, Zaraki-taichou punched Renji out of his misery, knocking him out cold.

Wild cheering of the 11th division spectators subsided as Soifon-taichou entered the training grounds, followed by her black-clad subordinates.

"Zaraki-taichou. A duel was reported. It is my duty to investingate this ongoing problem."

"Not a duel, Soifon-taichou. A training exercise." Kenpachi stood his ground, not wishing to limp in front of the little enforcer of Seireitei's rules.

Soifon looked around. "Your division always causes unrest. Abarai-fukutaichou is your former member. I felt a bankai being released in this area. Without impartial witnesses, I can do nothing but arrest you and your opponent." She motioned forward; more black-clad 2nd division members appeared behind her.

"Soifon- taichou." The cool, level voice came from the shadows of the wall. Everyone turned; a bit of reiatsu stirred from the shaded corner in greeting and Kuchiki Byakuya, 6th division captain, entered the training grounds.

"Thank you, Zaraki-taichou, for a very…informative training session with my fukutaichou. I am glad we could all find the time." Byakuya turned to Ikkaku.

"Madarame-san, would you please take Abarai-fukutaichou to the 4th division?"

Soifon frowned. She'd been so sure. Both reiatsu flared in wild, unchecked surges. The bankai was brief, but even a brief release violated the rules. Kuchiki Byakuya was a stickler for the rules as much as she was, though, and if he was there and vouched for the rogue division, her case slowly melted in the midday sun.

"Next time, take your training somewhere else. Unless you're willing to limit your reiatsu fluctuations."

XXXXXXX

An unseated officer was sent to fetch lunch for the two captains enjoying a warmer winter day on the porch of the 11th division.

"You saw everything?" Kenpachi asked.

"Enough."

"Kid's getting better." Kenpachi's one eye looked at Byakuya thoughtfully.

"He still has to think about holding it together and moving, though."

"I know." Byakuya's eyes were opaque, yielding nothing.

Kenpachi put his empty plate down, a bit of a smile tugging on his scarred cheek.

"You know why he challenged me?"

Byakuya's eyes widened in surprise. "He did what?"

"Yeah. It was great." Kenpachi's eye rolled, mirth and pleasure mixed on his face.

"I provoked him some. His fuse is almost as short as I remember."

"How did you provoke him?" Byakuya asked, afraid to find out.

"I said you're a prissy princess who can't fight without his girly shikai." Byakuya's eyes warmed.

"You tell me that every time we spar, Kenpachi."

"He doesn't know that. And there were witnesses."

Tea was almost finished.

"There is one thing I'd like to ask you in confidence." Byakuya's voice was formal, his eyes suddenly cold.

"Yeah?"

"The relationship between Abarai and Ayasegawa…it interferes with my fukitaichou's work." Kenpachi's smile widened, his one eye gleaming with glee.

"Yeah, we have a lot of fun with that around here. Yumichika is so glad to have a student again."

"Student?"

"Well…maybe you oughta ask Abarai about that yourself. After all, he is doing it because of you." Kenpachi cackled and stood up.

Byakuya stood also. "Are you telling me they are not a couple?"

Kenpachi measured him with a cool gaze.

"No. Ikkaku would kill Renji if they were."

XXXXXXX

The office was still, the 6th division shinigami having made themselves scarce as they felt the oppressive reiatsu of Kuchiki-taichou approach.

Renji sat behind his desk, industriously applying his energies to a stack of paper he didn't get around to that morning.

"Hello, taichou." Renji's voice felt very small in the large room. Kuchiki-taichou strode to his desk, sat down silently, and proceeded to fill out divisional paperwork.

Renji remained silent, working hard. His head hurt, his wounds ached, his insides twisted with anticipated punishment for dueling with Zaraki-taichou. Yet his captain did not say a word.

Two o'clock rolled around.

"Should I make some tea, taichou?"

Kuchiki-taichou did not reply. Instead, he rinsed out his pen and put it away. He stood facing the large window for some time, then he turned and walked past Renji as though he didn't exist and proceeded to make a cup of tea for himself.

Renji writhed in his seat. Adrenaline and embarrassment fueled his resolve and he plowed through all of his paperwork by mid-afternoon.

"These forms need your signature, Kuchiki-taichou." Renji's voice was soft, apologetic.

There was no reply; the impassive captain was busy reading a book at his desk. Renji deposited the reports on the corner and withdrew.

There had to be was something he could do. Anything. But it had to be quiet. Renji felt that extra words would not advance his cause.

He opened the neglected supply closet. Stacks of forms and blank paper, ink stones and ink sticks, glue, wrapping paper, stamps, boxes of various items…

Renji began to sort. With every reach of his arms, every stretch of his back he accepted the pain as his penance. In the beginning, his goal was to exceed his captain. Now it was to reach his level. Not only that, but to be considered his worthy companion. A lover, perhaps, if the stars are aligned just right.

Taking offense at somebody else tarnishing his captain's name as though his captain could not protect himself was unworthy. It diminished the man he purported to love. The man who was, in almost every way, his superior. Older, cannier, smarter, stronger. Beautiful, honorable, restrained, controlled. Experienced. The monotonous, physical task of organizing the supply closet freed Renji's mind to examine his actions in a somewhat more rational light. As soon as he finished, he was determined to approach his captain, render his most abject and heartfelt apologies, bowing as deeply as he could possibly stand.

Renji reentered the large office room only to find Byakya gone for the night. Darkness has long shrouded the windows outside, and in the flickering lamp Renji noticed an odd shape protruding from a garbage bin. He bent over only to see a few blooming cherry branches, discarded with the rubbish of the day. The ceramic sake bottle stood on Renji's desk, casting a solitary shadow on the scarred surface.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Where does it say that this relationship has to work out? Maybe they are too different; perhaps unsuited to one another evil grin. Maybe Byakuya is just plain mean, maybe Renji is just too immature. Judge for yourself, and despair.**_

_**(And, as always, thank you very much for your letters!)**_

CHAPTER 6 – "Strategy and Tactics"

Papers crossed Renji's desk at a regular clip and for once, he found comfort in the ebb and flow of predicable, structured work.

"These are ready to go to the 9th division, taichou," Renji said in a quiet, restrained voice. Byakuya ignored him. Renji placed the papers on his captain's desk and returned to his own.

"Shall I make some tea, taichou?" Renji stood by Byakuya's desk at attention, his uniform impeccable, his long, red ponytail restrained in a white hair band. A small cherry blossom figured prominently on a displayed corner. Byakuya dipped his brush again and continued writing; the form finished, he stood to make his own tea for the fourteenth time in a row. Four days of silence.

Uninvited to partake in the green liquid, Renji turned to return to his hard wooden chair. His legs moved slowly, laboriously, as though pushing through viscous fluid. His thoughts occurred one at a time, images slowly appearing and disappearing. Random thoughts of past training sessions popped up like soap bubbles. An occasional flick of inky hair over a white leather jacket, crossing a busy street. The glide of a skateboard. A heavy sigh escaped him. All that was so far away now. Far away and out of his grasp.

No further tasks awaited his immediate attention. His desk was clean, the office was perfectly organized, his own room was spotless. Never, not even back in Rukongai did he feel this cut off before. Other seated officers supervised training, performed the tasks for his captain which he thought to be his exclusive privilege. The pleasure of seeing his friends paled. Books from the Living World, his inanimate friends, sat untouched. His music player gathered dust, earbuds coiled and forgotten. A stupid misjudgment on his part – then heartbreak. There must have been a way, some time honored way, of making amends.

_Just follow your heart. _

The warmth of Zabimaru's comment was unexpected.

"What do you think?" Renji's reply was soundless, his eyes halfway closed.

_Just ask him what he wants you to do. You can't read his mind._

"He probably wants me to figure it out by myself."

_So what do people do when they disgrace their superior?_

"Seppuku is considered an honorable option."

_Messy, though. And if you die, we die too._

"I could just leave – but desertion's even worse."

_You could transfer._

Renji had no reply. Transfer felt like a fate worse than death; the thought of being away from Byakuya, even a silent, dismissive Byakuya, opened that empty feeling in his chest again and he felt like he'd fall in and drown.

_You could just ask the cold bastard what he wants._

"Don't call him that, Zabimaru."

XXXXXXX

Byakuya detected a calming in his fukutaichou's reiatsu. He carefully suppressed a satisfied smile. Finally. For the first time in days, the wild, disordered energy was not merely restrained in its distress, but also centered. Abarai Renji was being introduced to a new kind of toughness. One gained by years of self-denial and self-restraint. He found his center in a skewed world. Presumably he had a plan of action.

He heard Renji's chair scrape back as he stood. Silent footsteps approached him; a shadow veiled his empty teacup.

"Kuchiki-taichou."

Byakuya did not raise his eyes. Silence thickened in the large room.

He detected a small flurry of movement. His flat, grey eyes widened ever so slightly and rested on Renji kneeling by his feet, his forehead touching the wooden floor. Very slowly, almost imperceptibly, his shoulders turned toward the prostrated form.

"I have dishonored you."

The words resounded in Byakuya's mind. His feelings of embarrassment have long faded. He did feel a need to teach his...Renji…a lesson, however, and apparently Renji had learned something.

"I ask for your permission to commit seppuku."

The nue screamed in Renji's mind.

Byakuya's eyes could not be wider, more open, more receptive. The lesson – he was teaching a lesson here, but this was not on the syllabus. A sudden thickness seized his throat and breath was awfully hard to draw. Only his habit of stillness while receiving news kept him from rising in his chair yet he felt if he rose, he'd become dangerously lightheaded. He found his voice escape its voluntary prison.

"Why?"

Renji's position did not change.

"I am no longer of service. My actions embarrass you. I do not wish to dishonor you again."

He felt a hand grip his kosode. The movement of the deceptively slight wrist was efficient. His tall body was yanked up to its feet; a surge of oppressive reiatsu flung him across the room and into the wall. Icy voice cut through the air.

"Permission denied. Get your zanpakuto – we shall train."

XXXXXXX

The familiar walk to the 6th division training grounds was thousand miles long that afternoon. Renji's feet plodded heavily in the wake of his captain's easy glide. The cold, empty feeling in his heart transformed to a heavy anchor as Renji struggled for air, trying to come up with a solution to his terrible dilemma.

He swore to never draw his sword on his captain again. Soon the moment of truth would arrive and he'd be squared off with Kuchiki-taichou, and they would, presumably, spar. Taichou said "train". Was it the 6th division version, or the 11th division version? Or, maybe this was his ticket out of the misery of unrequited love. All he had to do was miss a block and it would be over.

The thought appalled him. Regardless of his own willingness to take his own life in the traditional manner, were he permitted or ordered to do so, manipulating the man he loved into killing him would have been a selfish, despicable deed. Byakuya had, after all, promised to try and not hurt him again. Impaling his unworthy body on Senbozakura would have only sullied his captain and the honorable intentions behind his oath.

Only few more steps. Five. Two. One. His waraji stood on the moist, cold earth of the training ground. He willed himself to go forward. Byakuya was halfway to the other side already, his captain's haori reflecting the pallid winter sun, his windflower silk scarf fluttering in the easy breeze. Renji's heart skipped as the raven black hair moved with the wind. He blinked his eyes, hard, clearing his vision.

Byakuya looked at Renji's hesitating form. He felt resistance to the very concept of training with a zanpaktou with every step from the 6th division office. Good. Give his fukutaichou something to push against. He turned to see Renji cross the bounds of the training area, feet dragging, features drawn. His eyes were dull; the fire within was banked to barely glowing embers. Part of that was due to his own inability to communicate, he knew. But an even bigger role was played by whatever unrealistic, idiotic, romantic ideals his fukutaichou picked up in regards to their mutual relationship. Damn Ayasegawa and his daft notions. He'd beat it out of Renji if he head to.

_But I shall strive not to hurt him the process._

Byakuya cursed under his breath.

It shocked him.

Renji saw his captain initiate a bow and automatically he bowed with him, his body lowering a bit deeper, staying down a bit longer. As they straightened, their hands went to the hilts of their swords by sheer force of habit and both of them drew at the same time, silently, smoothly.

They stood, their focus unwavering. Byakuya's zannpakutou was slightly canted, tip pointed at his opponent's left eye. Ready for a straight cut. Ready for anything.

_Go on, Renji. _

Renji stood with his left foot slightly forward, hips squared toward his captain, his sword held in a hasso: position vertical, almost touching his right cheek. Ready for anything.

_C'mon, taichou._

_He won't attack me. Very well then._

Byakuya flash-stepped, appearing two strides before Renji, hips drawn back and sword poised for a perfect cut. He allowed gravity take over the elementary strike and was gratified to feel Renji deflect his sword with his canted blade, his hips evading on a diagonal, his body mass following smoothly, wrists crossed. A metallic snick filled the air as Senbonzakura slid down Zabimaru with harmless ease.

Byakuya turned to center on Renji again, the soft block to his fukutaichou's counter already in place…yet the counter never came. Renji recovered back to the defensive hasso and moved two steps back.

_He won't counter-attack me. Very well, then. _

Byakuya thrust easily from his center guard and Renji blocked the razor-sharp blade with a counter-thrust – a technically perfect counter-thrust which should have pierced Byakuya's throat, had it not fallen short of its target. Pulling the blow, predictably, weighted down Renji's heels and Byakuya leapt forth, hooking his right leg around his fukutaichou's right knee. A subtle, hardly visible twist of his hip sent Renji's sprawling on his back as both swords clattered to the ground.

"Trauma occurs at the point of imbalance, fukutaichou."

Something warm was weighing him down. Renji squirmed, hoping to regain purchase on the hilt of Zabimaru, but Zabimaru was more than an arm's reach away. Byakuya's knee dug into his hip painfully; strong, tekkou-clad hands grasped the collar of his kosode and turned inward. He felt warm darkness claim him.

Incredulous, Byakuya released his fists off the pressure points on the sides of Renji's warm neck, allowing his fukutaichou to regain consciousness. He never expected Renji to fall for such an elementary move. His eyes measured the prone form. The normally tan skin seemed sallow in the setting sun, dark circles under the closed eyes. The sharp cheeks and angular jaw seemed sharper, skeletal. Byakuya's eyebrows knit a bit closer together.

The cold dirt underneath chilled him and he sat up. His captain sat in a seiza not too far away, his zanpakuto sheathed, his eyes closed in meditation. Renji stood, aggravation emanating from every pore. He bent down to pick up his sword, wiping it on his sleeve. What a dirty, nasty trick. Irritation grasped him, self-directed. He fell for his own move.

The upset, indignant quality of Renji's reiatsu made Byakuya settle in satisfaction. Anger was a definite step up from the previous lethargy.

"Taichou."

He opened his eyes to meet the flat brown of Renji's. No amber lights, no fiery blaze this time. A few more fights, and the fire would reassert itself.

"Yes, Renji."

"I…I can't. I can't lift my sword against you. I said I wouldn't."

Byakuya's eyes met his and Renji saw blazing heat in the fierce, gray gaze.

"We are in a state of war, Abarai-fukutaichou. Do you wish me to perish in combat?"

Renji straightened, meeting his captain's gaze with shock. "No! Never!"

Byakuya's eyes pierced him to a point in space, not allowing him to move. "Then why do you deny me a valuable opportunity to train?"

Renji's eyes struggled free of the cold, grey gaze, gently slid the aquiline nose down to much warmer, softer lips. His lovely jaw. His smooth neck, peeking from underneath the scarf.

A stern voice regained his attention.

"You have been ignoring me, Renji. It's not doing either of us any good." Byakuya's eyes eased to a cooler, softer gray. Observing. Gauging.

"Ignoring you!" Renji sputtered. "I've done all these things just to please you! It was…some of it anyway…it was sheer torture but I did it anyway. I was anything but ignoring you!"

Byakuya allowed a small sigh to escape.

"You have been ignoring the person I really am. You've been dreaming about a person you think I might be, but that's not what I need from you."

With no small satisfaction, Byakuya watched his fukutaichou's eyes widen in shock. A glimmer of light appeared in the brown, a shadow of Renji's former fire. That fire…the lovely ambers and reds, the passion, the confidence. Byakuya would see it restored.

"Get ready, Abarai-fukutaichou. Let us continue."

It's been at least thirty minutes and Renji was still moving like a wooden doll. Calm eyes observed his insipid attacks, analyzed his reiatsu currents. Every time the flat of Byakuya's sword left a welt, Renji tightened up some more. Sparring with Renji was like winding a clock spring tighter and tighter.

Byakuya sheathed his blade, his head turning to the side.

"Taichou…"

The pain and exhaustion in his fukutaichou voice drew Byakuya's eyes to him.

"Abarai. You did so well against Kenpachi, and I am doing so well against you. If this trend holds, next time I spar with Kenpachi I won't even need my zanpakutou."

The grey eyes looked at Renji, an elegant eyebrow raised slightly in a question.

"Uh…"

_But I am not in love with Kenpachi. _

Renji didn't need to voice his sentiment; his eyes softened at the thought, the corners of his mouth pulling into a hint of a goofy smile.

A left hook landed on Renji's jaw. His eyes hardened with surprise and hurt as he stumbled back.

"You are treating me like a girl." Byakuya's voice was heavy with accusation.

"Am not!"

Renji's hurried denial was intended to mask his feelings of guilt, except there was panic in his voice.

Byakuya moved in with two swift blows to the ribs. He watched Renji cover and back up.

"Then why aren't you hitting back?"

Renji's jaw dropped. He stopped, trying to think…to say something.

Two stiff fingers jabbed his solar plexus, making him double over.

"Hit back, Abarai." The cold, biting command cut through the haze of Renji's confusion. In a fighting stance, he jabbed two lefts. They were easily blocked. A right cross shot out – and Byakuya dropped his guard, accepting the blow on his chin. The slighter man stumbled back two steps as Renji followed up, his hands on Byakuya's arms.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! Are you allright?"

A knee to the groin doubled Renji over.

"Yes I am, Abarai. Please continue."

XXXXXXX

The evening twilight assumed a gray, luminescent quality as the sun dipped under the horizon. Byakuya's breathing was a bit shallower than usual, standing there over Renji's sprawled body, the tan skin drenched with cooling sweat.

Their eyes met. Renji grinned, left eye swollen shut, bottom lip split and bleeding.

"I will not fight stupid fights in your name, taichou."

"And?" Byakuya's gaze felt searing on his battered body.

"I won't treat you like a girl."

"Even though…"

"Even though you're…beautiful." Renji's voice was as soft as morning fog.

"And?"

"And I will respect your space and not crowd you."

Byakuya reached his hand down and pulled Renji up.

"No. You are welcome in my space, in private. In public we remain a captain and a lieutenant."

"Hai, taichou." Renji's lovestruck, smitten smile threatened a comeback.

"Abarai. One more thing."

"Hai, taichou."

"Forget all those things Ayasegawa taught you."

Renji's color started to rise up his neck, startled expression in his wide red eyes.

"You...you know about that?"  
A corner of Byakuya's mouth tugged up in a hint of a smile.

"I've heard you can pour tea like a geisha."

Renji howled in embarrassment and dug a sharp elbow into his unsuspecting captain's ribs. His leg was swept with a deft kick and he broke his fall by his captain's feet - who looked down at him with a twinkle in his grey eyes, his expression solemn.

"They say you've been introduced to rudimentary personal hygiene."

Renji got up, this time without assistance.

"They talk too much." He measured his captain up and down. "Your jaw looks swollen, taichou. What do you say we stop by the 4th for some ice and then go have dinner?"

Byakuya considered the bold proposal.

"Are we going as taichou and fukutaichou?"

Renji's smile revealed sharp teeth. "That's up to you, taichou. But it's my treat."


	7. Chapter 7

_**This is one of those transitional chapters. Bear with me.**_

_Disclaimer: Bleach world and characters belong to Tite Kubo._

CHAPTER 7 – "Strategy and Tactics"

Showered and patched up, Renji flash-stepped to the pub around the corner. Kira and Matsumoto were the first ones there.

"What happened to you, Renji?" Matsumoto's look of concern barely masked her curiosity. "You ran into the doorframe again?"

"I ran into taichou again."

Kira looked away, his sigh mournful.

"Hey…" Matsumoto put her arm around Kira's shoulders, leaning her head into his shoulder. "We're here for you," She purred and squeezed. Kira leaned into her with a sigh.

"You're lucky to have a captain, Renji."

"Yeah..."

_Oh yeah. Little do you know how lucky._

Renji looked at Matsumoto again. "I won't be staying tonight. I just wanted to see if anyone has a clean black kosode I could borrow."

XXXXXXX

He had ten minutes. Only ten minutes to make it back to his room, change into something free of mud and body odor, and flash-step to meet Byakuya. His mind roiled with frustrated, angry betrayal.

"No way am I loaning you a clean top, baka! That's what you have all those yukatas for!" Yumichika's face was frozen with anger. "Your hair looks ridiculous. I already explained that sad fact to you previously. And I told you, you don't obey, I cut you off. Consider yourself on your own."

"Ikkaku?" Renji's voice held a note of despair.

"S…sorry, bud. I have to…to obey, too." Ikkaku said, howling with laughter.

"Wanna go sleeveless?" Hisagi asked, mischief and something else in his dark green eyes.

He dug through his chest. _Too bright…too fancy…here. This'll do._ Renji was out the door with two minutes to spare.

His flash-step took him straight to the front door of a casual eatery. He stopped to assume a casually dignified pace, tugged on his clothing, adjusted his ponytail and as he reached for the door, a muted shadow emerged, seemingly from nowhere.

"You're late, Renji."

Renji turned around to Byakuya, now visible with the restaurant's yellow light reflecting off his haori.

"Taichou. I'm so sorry…I ran into some difficulties."

They were seated at a low table, their zanpakuto lying by their sides. Familiar with the food offerings, they made their choices. While waiting for sake, Byakuya eyed Renji's black yukata curiously. The top of the garment was sprinkled with gray and white cherry blossoms.

"This is hardly regulation uniform, Abarai."

Renji felt heat rising up his neck.

"Um…sorry, taichou."

They agreed to have dinner as taichou and fukutaichou that evening – much like other officers dined together on occasion. They selected this particular establishment precisely because they would be inconspicuous among other shinigami…provided, of course, that they blended in.

"I ran out of laundry. Today's kosode got muddy and sweaty, and the one I have left's got a tear in it I have to fix."

Byakuya raised his elegant eyebrow ever so slightly.

_Do tell me more._

Renji took in a volume of air, his eyes raised back up to the almost playful gleam in Byakuya's.

"So I made it to the pub where we meet on Friday nights, but nobody would loan me a clean top. Except for Hisagi. And he wears no sleeves."

"Not even Ikkaku?" Byakuya's expression was solemn.

"Especially not him; after seeing how Yumi was mad at me he didn't dare."

Renji looked at Byakuya in earnest seriousness. "This is black. It's close enough, isn't it? And it matches my black hair band, even the flowers..." Renji paused, uncertain.

"Or…would you have liked it better if I went sleeveless?"

A faint pink flush threatened the pale cheeks of Kuchiki-taichou, and seeing that, Renji inclined his head, his eyes wide open, waiting for a reply.

Saved by the arrival of sake, Byakuya cleared his throat.

"Ah…" He poured two cups of sake, passing one to Renji with both hands. Renji accepted it in both of his hands, his head bowing in thanks.

"Next time, wear the one with the tear in it, fukutaichou."

XXXXXXX

Kyoraku-taichou and Ukitake-taichou were treating their three subordinate officers to one of their regular dinners out when Ise Nanao peered over her rectangular glasses and leaned to the side, barely withholding a gasp.

"What is it, Nanao-chan?" Kyoraku asked, his sekkat pushed all the way back.

"Is that…it cannot be. Is that Kuchiki-taichou and Abarai-fukutaichou?"

Ukitake's brown eyes smiled at Kyoraku. "Wonders never cease."

Nanao peered again. "What is Abarai-fukutaichou wearing? I cannot see that far very well."

Kyoraku gestured to the waiter. "A bottle of sake, please." He turned to his dining companions. "Let me take this over to them and see." He stood, his boneless ease belying his hundreds of years, smiled his lazy, stubbly grin, and walked away in a flurry of his pink kimono.

They watched him sit with Kuchiki-taichou and exchange a few words before Kyoraku returned. He settled back on his cushion and pushed his sekkat back, stroking his stubbly chin with a smile.

"Very interesting."

"Well?" Ukitake queried.

"Abarai-kun is wearing a black kosode with grey and white cherry blossoms, and a matching black hair band. His eye is swollen shut, his bottom lip is fat, and he's favoring his right side. Bya-kun's jaw is swollen and beginning to bruise."

Ukitake's look was victorious. "Ah!"

His third seats looked at him, confusion in their eyes. "What?"

Ukitake leaned over and whispered: "They have been training extra hard."

XXXXXXX

"Renji."

"Hai, taichou."

"Clever of you to tell Kyoraku you are merely imitating his fashion statement. Would you care to walk for a bit?"

"It would be a pleasure, taichou."

Byakuya waited for Renji to walk next to him, using the wooded path to ascend the large hill. The overcast skies reflected only a bit of light, barely illuminating the path through the winter-bare cherry branches. Careful of their footing and the underbrush, they walked in silence.

The thrill of walking next to Byakuya was short-lived as Renji fell in behind him, silently avoiding grasping branches in the dark of the night. Normally he would have used this time to analyze the dinner, think of what was said, plan the next steps of being the perfect evening companion but somehow all of this escaped him, his energy focused on the here and now. All of his energy, all he had left. Usually, going out would have been a pleasurable experience and he would feel recharged afterward. Not this night – he felt like a rubber band stretched a bit too tight.

Byakuya leaned against a thick, ancient tree trunk on top of the hill, his eyes basking in the sight before him. A majestic city unfolded before Renji's eyes, many of its windows still lit, figures still crossing courtyards, groups travelling down its paved streets.

"This is one of my favorite views, Renji."

Renji turned to look at Byakuya; his face was pale in the dark, his kenseikan dull in the shadows. They stood in a dark, quiet place, away from prying eyes. The soothing silence accentuated the stimulation of the previous hours, previous days. The insane schedule, the new things to try and to learn in the last few weeks left him suddenly drained; the gut-wrenching emotions of the previous five days reasserted themselves, sending dull tingles under his skin. To his horror he felt his muscles weaken, struggling in an effort to bear his weight. Suddenly he felt very alone so high up above the Seireitei and Byakuya, only few steps away from him, seemed intangible, unreal. Naught but a figment of his imagination, a dream from which he would soon wake to his cold room, his empty bed. In a stubborn refusal to wake up, his hands ceased to feel the nighttime air and his teeth suddenly felt oddly dull, as though he was disconnected from reality and fluffs of thick, dark cotton made it hard for him to feel, or see, or hear. He quickly stumbled through the ash-gray night, his large hand breaking his fall against the rough cherry tree bark. 

Byakuya turned to him.

"What is it, Renji."

Large, cold hands reached for his shoulders. Renji wedged his face in the crook of his neck.

"I dunno."

Byakuya felt Renji slide down his body, large hands roughly gliding over his chest, hips, thighs. Crumpled by his feet, Renji's strong arms grasped his knees in a tight embrace, stubborn forehead pressing against his thigh.

"Renji." Byakuya's voice thawed as he slid down to sit next to him, ensconced within his embrace.

His strong, slender arm snaked around Renji's waist. He pulled him closer.

Byakuya felt the words struggle to emerge, to show concern, to comfort, only to die young before flying free. Feelings roiled under his impassive mask, securely contained.

_For now._

He reached up to loosen Renji's black head band and untied his ponytail. The red, luxurious curtain fell around Renji's shoulders.

"Move, Renji."

Byakuya positioned Renji's head in his lap, his fingers entwined in his hair. He felt the delicious pull of strong silk around his fingers, the soft ends caressing the webbing between by his palms. Pale, slender fingers tugged Renji's hair, describing slow, gentle circles on his scalp, caressing the sensitive skin behind his ears and down his neck.

Anchored to the world by the touches and strokes alone, Renji released the breath he didn't know he was holding. His breathing began to settle and he could _see _his energy reach out to Byakuya, he could _see_ his captain allow the contact and he could _feel _his cool, soothing white reiatsu envelop him like a caress. There was comfort and rightness to it and the world was suddenly no longer tilted to the side, he was no longer sinking into soft, endless darkness, he no longer felt like he would fall off the edge world only to splatter on the paving stones of Seireitei.

"Byakuya." His voice was barely audible, full of longing.

He felt the hands slide down his neck and a pair of soft lips touched softly on his brow.

"You are still here." Renji's voice was filled with wonder.

"Where else would I be?"

"I was afraid this was all a dream 'n I didn't want to wake up."

"Mmm." The soft, cool lips grazed down the tattoos on his eyebrows, kissing his swollen left eyelid, the untouched right one.

"Do you dream of me much, Renji?" There was a hint of a smile in the voice, disembodied in the darkness.

Renji turned to face his taichou. "Sometimes."

_I have for years._

XXXXXXX

Byakuya felt Renji's shiver. "Let's go back down. You are cold."

They descended the hill in the middle of the night.

Renji felt like he was walking in deep sand, his movement heavy and cumbersome. Again he stumbled and caught himself, cursing his clumsiness.

"What is it, Abarai?" Byakuya's voice was sharp with concern.

"Just tired I guess."

"It's been a long week." An unusual week. A week of struggle and discovery and pain, the pain that comes with growth and ends up in mutual understanding.

"Let me walk you to your quarters."

By the time they arrived at Renji's door, his fukutaichou was on his feet through sheer strength of will. He watched Renji's clumsy hands unlock the door by rote and just about fall in, barely kicking his sandals off. Byakuya closed the door behind them.

"Let me make some tea." Renji sat down on his futon, chilled to the bone, listening to Byakuya navigate his very small kitchen. In not too long, his captain appeared, placing a tea tray on the floor.

Renji watched Byakuya pour out, filling two ceramic tea bowls. His hands were warmed by the care more than by the beverage. He smiled tightly to keep his teeth from chattering.

"S..sorr…ry."

"What about?"

"N..not ver..rry…romantic."

Byakuya took the tea tray back to the kitchen.

"I am more concerned about your well-being than about Ayasegawa-san's notions." His voice was tart.

"You have a spare yukata for me to sleep in?"

Renji nodded, pointing to the chest. Byakuya pulled out the purple one with green fish.

"Would you like a soak in the onsen?"

Renji shook his head. "Too c…cold comin' b…back."

"You'll feel better tomorrow."

Renji felt hands spread a second blanket over him. He felt a dip in the futon as extra weight depressed the padding behind him. There was just a bit of cold draft, immediately followed by warmth touching his whole back. An arm hugged his waist, warm breath so intimate, so soothing in his long, vermillion hair.

"Taichou…suppose somebody sees you?" Renji's voice was but a mumble.

"Shhh…I'll pretend I slept in my quarters. They are not far." Soothing, familiar reiatsu enveloped him like a pair of wings.

Renji sighed, eyes leaden, a small smile settling on his relaxed lips.

XXXXXXX

Byakuya was showered and dressed already, yet his fukutaichou saw no indication of wanting to wake up.

"Renji." He stroked his shoulder gently.

"Renji, it's getting late."

"Abarai."

"Abarai-fukutaichou."

The fine, dark eyebrows drew together in concern. Byakuya looked around, taking in the Renji's quarters. He tucked the blankets around the sleeping face in resignation.

XXXXXXX

"…so I suggest he just rests a bit, Kuchiki-taichou." Yamada Hanatarou bowed to the captain on his way out.

_Stress…_

Byakuya turned his back on his room, the grey eyes unseeing the scene outside his window. He never considered Abarai Renji to be a fragile man. How could this strong, stubborn, occasionally obstreperous individual survive training, combat, life in Rukongai, only to be brought to his knees by…stress? He felt…he _felt. _ Wild emotions such as he hadn't experienced in decades tore loose behind his mask carved of smooth alabaster and he felt the strain of containing them, of keeping them at his heel.

Guilt mingled with desire, pleasure with pain. He felt a sudden urge to _do_ something, to be more than just the giver of orders and schemer of strategies and political machinations. He wanted to act from his heart, do something of consequence to himself even though the fear of his own illogical impulses nearly paralyzed him.

XXXXXXX

Hisagi and Matsumoto were surprised when Kuchiki-taichou joined the mess line, standing behind them. They got their food and covertly observed the calm, collected captain to select a lunch of spicy and a lunch of sweet. He carried the two bentos to the 6th division building as though running errands was the most natural thing in the world, his haori flaring behind him, his scarf fluttering in the breeze. They watched him enter the office.

XXXXXXX

Smell of food woke Renji up. Food, and fresh-cut lemons.

He sat up, his eyes wide in surprise at the sight of his taichou putting food on the small kitchen table, hot honey and lemon water ready by Renji's side.

"Taichou! What are you doing?"

"Come eat, Abarai."

Renji sat, eyeing Byakuya covertly. He sat on the edge of his futon for awhile, cautious, then he stretched out some and put on an old, warm robe.

"So…what happened last night?"

Byakuya pushed a bento toward him. "I kept you company, then I got up and went to the office. Yamada-san has been in to look at you, and the 4th division took care of your laundry problem."

It occurred to Renji that Byakuya had a distinctly feline expression just then; his large, grey eyes about to close in satisfaction, looking like he just emptied a bowl of cream.

"Yamada-san suggests that your reiatsu level still needs to recharge after your injury weeks ago. He left meditation exercises for you."

Byakuya turned away, his eyes downcast.

_And I caused you more anguish than I realized._

Kuchiki Byakuya could not express that sentiment aloud. He wanted to, he yearned to, but his impassive mask was on very firmly here in Seireitei. He could not allow it to slip.

A large, warm hand stroked his smooth, pale cheek and he looked up, startled to be so lost in thought. To even feel comfortable enough to lose himself in though. Renji bent down, his glorious red hair sliding down to tickle his cheeks. Their lips were so close. He could feel the warmth of Renji's breath and his eyes fluttered closed as their lips met, sweet and soft and yielding.

"Thank you, Byakuya."


	8. Chapter 8

_**Yaoi and Mature Content warnings apply to this chapter.**_

_Disclaimer: Bleach world and characters belong to Tite Kubo._

CHAPTER 8 – "Strategy and Tactics"

The rhythm and hum of divisional logistics has not changed for Renji's absence. Paperwork was completed on time and neatly, errands were run swiftly and efficiently. The gas lamps cast their yellow glow once the sun set. The food was the same, even the weather hasn't changed.

Byakuya stood from his seat, turning his back on the familiar room. Time dragged. He was bored and the realization surprised him. So much work to do, intelligence reports to collate, information to compile and organize into a coherent whole before the war broke out. And yet. Air was unstirred by wild comings and goings, his ears weren't assaulted by barely suppressed sighs and muttered curses. There was order. And emptiness besides.

Byakuya resolved to dismiss the fact that his fukutaichou was two days late coming back. He was capable. His gigai was the safer, older kind. His reiatsu was back to regular strength. A glimmer of thought tried to break through his defenses – an inkling that these kinds of worries were once reserved solely for Rukia when she was on one of her missions. His thoughts wandered to their pivotal training session many days previous, when he levied a heavy accusation at his second-in-command:

"_You treat me like a girl." _

Now Byakuya was treating Renji's tardiness like a mother hen. There was only one thing to do. He picked up Senbonzakura and headed out. Kenpachi was always good for some tension release. If he could only find him.

XXXXXXX

C'mon, Renji, let's play," Yoruichi laughed, stretching her supple back. "Byakuya won't thank you for keeping idle."

A bit of training wasn't a bad idea. Renji passed on the documents he carried, he skate-boarded all over Karakura to acquire reiatsu data with the odd instrument provided by the 12th division…now he had to wait for Urahara to compare the data to his and calibrate or whatever…there was a lot of new stuff to learn and Renji's brain felt like exploding. He was never the one for sitting around and looking for that one small error in a row of numbers.

They sparred empty-handed and Renji was amused to see a similarity to Byakuya's style. He said as much.

"It's the other way around. I taught him…when he was a lot younger." Yoruichi's yellow eyes dimmed and looked away.

"But that's a long time ago. Now, I get to try my luck on you!" She jumped off a high rock, her foot aimed at Renji's face. He ducked and grabbed, naught but air in his hands for his trouble. A feminine voice taunted from behind him.

"Renji, you're so slow…no wonder you get beat up all the time!"

Renji turned and grinned. He once was with the 11th division. This was all good fun. He might have gotten a bit more civilized under Kuchiki-taichou, but he still remembered how to fight with all his heart and love every second of it.

Drenched with sweat and aching all over, Renji stretched in the hot pool, untying his hair and dipping all the way under. The warm water washed the sweat away, it soothed bruises, encouraged the overworked muscles to stretch and relax.

Yoruichi lounged in the water across from him, her purple hair tied up. She didn't break nearly as much sweat as Renji did. He tried not to observe her undressed, submerged body too keenly. She was attractive, beautiful even.

"What's on your mind, Abarai-kun?"

His answer was uncensored, responding to her genuine tone. "I was wondering…you're quite small, really. Where does all that power come from?"

Yoruichi smiled her feline smile.

"Strength is but the vessel, not the source, of power. I do only as much as I need to do. Too much is as bad as too little. Too much makes you overextend, it ruins your alignment." She tilted her head. "You've been trying too hard, Abarai-kun."

"Um…what, in sparring, you mean?"

"That, and also with Byakuya." She observed him carefully through the rising steam.

Renji remained silent. She couldn't possibly know…could she? How?  
"What do you mean, Yoruichi-san?" He tried for his best imitation of the impassive Kuchiki mask.

"Last time you were here, your gigai told a story."

Renji thought. Oh. Of course. He reddened, heat rising into his face.

"It's good for Byakuya, of course. I consider you to be an excellent influence, Abarai-kun. Unless, of course, you try to change who you are."

Renji reached for a pitcher of water, hoping the cold drink would suppress the fierce blush in his face.

"D'you know about everything?" Frustration played a sour note in his voice.

"No. But I would like to help, if I can."

"And then you'll tell Urahara and everyone else."

"No."

"No?"

"I knew him way back when. He was much like you." Yoruichi closed her eyes, her smile wistful. "Full of fire. Resistant to authority. In love."

Renji kept still, not daring to stem the flow of information.

"People have been dying on him left and right. His mother, his father, his grandfather. His wife." Yoruichi reached for her own water.

_And I followed Kisuke into exile._

"After Hisana died, he…resigned himself to his fate. He learned not to feel so he could endure being alone."

Renji's eyes were wide, riveted to the woman across from him.

"You can change that, Abarai-kun. But in doing so, you must remain entirely yourself. Why don't you tell me what you have been up to."

And Renji did.

XXXXXXX

He should have been back in the 6th division office already, plowing through his daily piles of paper and instead he was here in the Living World, shopping for the Shinigami Women's Association. There was little else to do while Urahara was busy recalibrating Kurotsutchi-taichou's device. Urahara's and Kurotsutchi's data had to share the same baseline. Renji now understood that. It interested him, but not enough to look over Urahara's shoulder as he tweaked buttons and studied endless printouts.

The war was coming and everybody knew it would be hard to get back to the Living World for awhile. He had his duffel and his list. Almost all the women requested extra tampons.

"If you get pads get the thin ones with wings," Matsumoto instructed him. He knew what to look for. He wondered if Hisagi would have died of embarrassment if he hoisted the errand off on him.

There was a standing request for hair conditioner and Renji, being no fool, knew to buy some for himself.

"And get the anti-frizz. Here's a list of brands that are pretty good. Also, some chap-sticks…"

His feet felt tired. His gigai hurt. Yet…there was one more little thing. According to Yoruichi, a small chocolate store near Urahara Shoten would probably carry what he was looking for. He smiled in anticipation. He wasn't changing himself. Gifts were part of his innate nature.

XXXXXXX

Byakuya was on his way from the 1st division headquarters when a familiar purr of Renji's reiatsu entered his consciousness. Three days late. He better have a good reason. Tired, underslept and unreasonably irritable, he bee-lined for the reiatsu's source. Renji would carry just the information he needed to complete his final intelligence report.

A figure in black hakama and a red and black leather jacket glided into his view. A huge duffel bag precariously balanced on his shoulder, Renji's skateboard accelerated toward him, his red ponytail fluttering in the air like a crest. He saw Renji grind to a halt in front of him, dump his bag of contraband, and bow. A wild, crooked grin played on his face.

"Taichou!" He flipped the board into his free hand. "I have everything you asked for, but it was a bit complicated."

"You carry a lot more than I asked for, Abarai." Renji didn't shiver at his captain's cold voice. He looked him up and down, noting the grey splotches under his eyes, the tension in his shoulders.

"I can explain, taichou. And I can help with anything you need."

XXXXXX

The 12th division grabbed the precious instrument out of Renji's arms along with the envelope from Urahara.

Byakuya pointed to three days of backlog paperwork which, even though not urgent, was still important enough to keep the wheels of Gotei 13 bureacracy moving.

Data from the 12th division was passed to the 6th, and it was Kuchiki-taichou who collated it with information gleaned from historical records.

Renji helped copy the reports, Renji delivered them to all division captains, and Renji attended a special emergency meeting where the new findings were discussed.

The debates took hours. Renji's stomach growled loudly enough, and often enough, that Ukitake-taichou passed him a piece of candy. They broke for a quick, late dinner, after which it was back to the office, back to piles of paper and maps and scenarios and research of possible ramifications of altering what some called "the space-time continuum".

XXXXXXX

"Taichou, should I make some tea?"

"Go ahead, Abarai."

Renji settled a tea tray on the low table by the sofa a bit later.

"At my desk, Abarai." Byakuya had been staring at the same page for a very long time. Renji walked over.

"You're not reading anymore." His voice was gently insistent.

"Abarai."

"Please come take a break, taichou. Not looking at paper for a few minutes can only help." Renji stood before Byakuya's desk like a pillar of salt, betraying no intention to move.

"Very well." Byakuya put the offending text down and walked over to the sofa. Renji sat on the floor and with a practiced flourish he moved the sleeve of his shihakusho up a bit, reached for the tea kettle, and poured a cup of tea without spilling a drop. He then handed it to Byakuya with a bow. His wrist disappeared back under the fabric, his forearm tattoos once again hidden out of sight.

Byakuya blinked. "So it is true. You can pour tea like a geisha."

"It's okay to learn something new here and there, taichou, don't you think?"

"Mmm." Byakuya'e eyes closed as he inhaled the steam.

Renji helped himself to a cup. Byakuya's eyes looked like they could stay closed for a very long time.

"Oi, taichou…here, I brought you something you might like."

Renji watched the tired, grey eyes open.

"Here…I found these chocolates. Remember that chocolate mousse with hot pepper you liked? Well…" Renji produced a chocolate bar. "This should be a similar taste. Not too sweet."

The tea cup was deposited on the tray as a slender, tekkou-clad hand accepted the gift.

"Thank you, Renji." Byakuya looked at the foreign inscription. "Where is this from?"

"It's not local. But there should be local chocolates available, too. In fact, flavored chocolate is quite a trend. You can even get wasabi chocolate…Ichigo let me use the internet to research some recipes."

"I see."

Byakuya opened the cardboard wrapper and slid a silver-clad tablet onto the table. He then unwrapped the thin foil, exposing a dark, fragrant tile cross-hatched with lines and embossed with foreign symbols. He broke a piece off and broke it in two.

"Try some, Renji."

It was like some kind of an adolescent dare; both of them lifted the black bit to their lips simultaneously, their eyes on one another. If one was going to stop, the other would likely have stopped also.

Renji felt the dark chocolate melt in his mouth hesitantly; not very sweet, yet the cayenne pepper was a strong enough note to make him frown.

Byakuya's eyes closed. His breathing became deeper as he experienced the almost-new sensation.

"It is...quite pleasant, actually."

The look of quiet contemplation on his eyes only brought Renji's attention to his stiff, tight shoulders.

_Cheeky. Audacious. Surprisingly good with his hands. _

Those were the thoughts running through Byakuya's mind as he felt Renji stand behind him, large warm hands kneading the stiff upper shoulders, strong thumbs pressing on the corded muscles of Byakuya's neck. He stiffened in pain.

"Let me know if I go too hard." Renji's voice was a caress.

"Lean back a bit, here…" Renji arranged his captain to his satisfaction, his hands doing their magic and was pleased to hear a contented sigh escape Byakuya's lips.

Renji pushed the curtain of raven hair off the smooth, white neck.

"Can I take your scarf off? It's in the way." Byakuya nodded, and Renji unwound the length of silk and draped it on the sofa next to him. He felt the distended back press against his hands and smiled.

"Not much I can do through your haori. Could you…?"

Byakuya stood, removed his haori, folded it and placed it next to his tangled scarf.

"Here…" Renji indicated for Byakuya to settle, leaning against the short arm-rest. Large, warm hands swept over the tight, distended back. Able, searching fingers found knots to tease out.

"Ah." Not a happy sound.

"Sorry." Renji eased off, the pressure of his hands lighter.

Byakuya felt the light caress of fingers sweep up his back and up his neck. Gentle touch soothed up the sides and under the ears and he felt heat pool at his groin. Focused on his breathing, he almost conquered the inconvenient sensation when hands pulled him back, his head leaning against Renji's thighs.

"Abarai."

"Shh…you'll see." Renji's voice was focused.

Thumbs attacked the top of his shoulders from neck to shoulder-point and Byakuya felt the tension slowly melting away. Strong fingers searched through the top of his shihakusho.

"I need to get down to your clavicle. Would you mind loosening your kosode, taichou."

Hesitantly he did so and a thumb pressed right above his clavicle on each side. He gasped.

"It gets you right under your shoulder-blades, doesn't it." Renji's voice was a satisfied purr as his fingers caressed his chest while coaxing the painful pressure points to yield many days of stored tension.

Byakuya felt himself relax against Renji, his eyes almost closed when the rough-skinned fingers swept up his throat, to his jaw and into his hairline. He could feel his very forehead relax at the delicious touch.

"Excuse me for a moment here…" There was a touch of mischief in Renji's sultry voice and he felt nimble fingers remove his kenseikan.

"Renji."  
"'s okay. I'll put them on the table."

A metallic click against the lacquered wood…another one, and his hair was free.

Renji ran his fingers through Byakuya's hair, circling lightly. Touching him, running his hands over the alabaster skin, feeling his warmth on his hands was a privilege, an amazing sensual treat. He turned sideways a bit to conceal the hard evidence of his own pleasure. And now, with the black hair loose and his fingers freely running through the smooth strands he was overcome with a curious feeling of lightness and he smiled at the relaxed form in his hands.

Did he dare – No. He didn't. Yes, he did. Oh, hell.

Byakuya felt warm, moist breath under his ear right before soft lips kissed him at that sensitive, delicate patch of skin and he shuddered with pleasure.

_Surely this is a bad idea._

He moved his head to cover that side, only to reveal the other and feel a jolt of pleasure as the sensuous lips dragged from neck to ear, kissing, a bit of tongue play making the smooth skin feel aflame.

"Renji." The intended admonishment came out as a breathless gasp. Arms encircled his shoulders, fingers slid under his kosode to feel the hard, smooth planes of his body, thumbs brushing the erect nipples.

"Byakuya." The voice that answered him was hushed, heated with passion, mournful with longing.

_Enough._

Byakuya extricated himself from Renji's embrace and stood, turning to his fukutaichou with words of regret and admonishment on the tip of his tongue just when Renji loosened his hair band, tossing it next to his kenseikan. The lush, vermillion hair spilled down his shoulders and Byakuya's words froze on the tip of his tongue. 

They found one another's arms and their lips brushed in a tender caress.

"Renji."

Byakuya felt Renji's tongue run along his lip, seeking entry and he feeling his lips part just enough. The delicious, moist heat teased him to press back in response and his eyes drew closed as arms enveloped him and a large hand snaked around his waist. He felt their hips being pulled closer.

Renji's groan just poured more oil onto the fire and Byakuya ground against him, feeling the hard evidence of their arousal.

His voice was but a strangled gasp.

"Renji. In my quarters."

XXXXXXX

A futon was already laid out in the generous room, an evidence of the captain sleeping over a lot recently.

Byakuya closed the door behind them and turned around.

_This is highly inappropriate._

_This is still a bad idea._

_We are not in the Living World anymore._

The heat in his eyes betrayed him and Renji felt suddenly short of breath, drowning in the deep, gray pools. He took two steps forward and pinned Byakuya to the door with his larger frame. Hips ground against hips as Renji claimed the lovely, soft mouth with passionate tenderness.

Slim, strong hands pushed him away.

"What…"

"Let me undress you, Renji."

The quiet words spilled out as nimble fingers made quick work of hakama ties and obi. Black fabric pooled around Renji's feet. Warm, sensuous hands slipped up his hips and sides, leaving fire in their wake as his arms were raised, his kosode sliding back. He felt the searing gaze on his body, suddenly all too conscious of his hard planes and tanned skin marked with exotic, sinuous tattoos. The scrutiny aroused him further, his bulge straining painfully against his fundoshi.

Drawn in by invisible strings, Renji stepped forth, his hands fumbling lightly with Byakuya's clothing. It seemed like eternity before the fabric fluttered to the tatami floor. Their eyes met.

"Do you know what you're doing, Renji?"

"Only in theory."  
"I see." The smooth, calm voice became soothing, hypnotic. "Let me show you, then."

Renji found himself lowered onto the futon on the ground and covered with a warm, sensuous body.

Tender hands were roaming over his sides, fingers splayed over his chest tracing the intriguing black lines. He felt a smooth cheek against his abdomen, the warm breath so close to his arousal his breath hitched.

Renji's hips bucked upward and Byakuya felt the strong fingers grasp his hair.

"Renji. Hands by your sides." The gleam in Byakuya's eyes was full of want, full of mischief.

"You must remain utterly still."

Renji arranged himself only to feel the wet, slithery tongue circle his head. His hips moved just a bit.

"Remain still." The note of command in the smooth, sensuous voice aroused him further. A whimper escaped his lips.

He knew something like this would happen. Yumichika described it all with great enthusiasm. He knew the odds were good that he'd be tied up, blid-folded, dominated.

"It's his nature," Yumi shrugged. "He doesn't know how to do anything but command. Love it or leave it."

Being at the mercy of his captain was nothing new. Renji was determined to endure now and evaluate later.

He felt his right leg being lifted. A warm hand stroked his swollen shaft and continued lower, fondling his sack gently…he gripped the sheets hard as the fingers feathered even lower, circling his opening. A slick finger pressed against his entrance. Renji stiffened. His eyes shut and face turned away lest he betray his hesitation, his fear.

_I wanted this. I still want this._

"Relax, Renji."

He felt a slick, exploring digit press inside him and stay.

"Shh…do you trust me, Renji?" The velvety voice beckoned, coaxed.

"Yeah…"

"Relax…"

The finger slid in and out gently a few times and was joined by a second and then a third as the soft, wet, eager mouth engulfed Renji's cock all the way to the hilt.

He fought not to thrust his hips, not to cry out in overwhelming bliss.

"Ready?" Renji's darkened eyes were on Byakuya as he lifted his hips, legs spread apart wantonly. Smooth, hot hardness pressed against his opening.

"Go ahead." _Hurry._

"Are you sure? It's likely to hurt the first time." Grey eyes were luminous over Renji's prone form, the voice tinged with concern.

"Yeah. I was told." Renji ran the tip of his tongue over his upper lip and panted. "Please…I want you. Inside me."

Byakuya's eyes were focused on Renji's, drinking in the heat in the hot, amber eyes. He penetrated in one slick, smooth thrust, burying his length all the way to the hilt in one smooth motion.

Renji's eyes were now shut, his lower lip between his teeth. He felt amazingly full and it hurt just like Yumichika said it would, but there was also a pleasurable sensation at the edge of his consciousness, promising to wake and tease him if he will only relax enough to allow it.

"Relax, Renji…say when." Slender hands massaged his abdomen, caressed his erection, sword calluses carefully avoiding contact with the tight, delicate skin.

"When." Renji felt the slow, shallow thrusts go progressively deeper, felt Byakuya's hand on him, stroking in counter-point.

Byakuya shifted his angle just so and the next thrust ripped a cry of pleasure from Renji's throat. And the next one, and the next. His hips moved in a syncopated rhythm as his arms reached for his lover and drew him in.

"You…did not remain…still." Byakuya's voice was a quiet rasp.

Renji tried to laugh but couldn't quite make the sound as the waves of pleasure built until he felt himself tighten all over for a paralyzing second, before his eyes rolled back and he spilled into Byakuya's hand and the name of his lover flew unbidden from his raw throat.

He felt Byakuya's final, deep thrust fill him deep as he clenched around his length in tight heat. Byakuya came soundlessly, his sharp teeth buried into Renji's shoulder, his violent release filling Renji with hot essence. Accompanied by an endearing flush of his face, the strands of ink-black hair were plastered to his neck, his cheeks.

Renji pulled him in tight, their hearts pounding. He closed his eyes, inhaling his unique, almost astringent scent.

He wanted to say it but superstition pushed the words back down into his throat. Instead, his lips found a delicious place on the white, smooth neck to gently nibble and suck.

_I love you, Byakuya._

XXXXXXX

It was late – so late that all other division headquarters slept in dark silence. All but one. Kenpachi knew Byakuya came in search of him with sword in his hand two days previously and that could mean only one thing. He grinned. Time to pull Byakushi away from his paperwork and onto the training field.

The light in the 6th division office was still on. His knock went unanswered and he let himself in. Byakuya couldn't be far. Kenpachi surveyed the area. Undone work on both desks, swords still in their sword stands. He turned to sit on the low sofa and wait as he had done many times before when his body stopped in its tracks.

His yellow eye took in the kenseikan and the hair band on the table. Chocolate? Folded haori sat next to a puddled length of silk he knew so well. If he could only read reaitsu, he could be sure what this meant.

"BYAAAKUYAAA!" A ragged scream made its way through the closed door across the empty room.

Kenpachi curled his lips into a scarred grin, his sharp canines gleaming in the yellow gaslight.

His hopes for a midnight spar dashed, he let himself out.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Sigh…I have to finish posting this fic so I can clear my head and move onto other things. There is one more chapter after this. **_

_**Thank you for sticking it out with me, for reading and especially for writing back. **_

_Disclaimer: Bleach world and characters belong to Tite Kubo_

**Chapter 9 – "Strategy and Tactics"**

Renji woke to a strange, dark room. His butt was freezing, exposed to night-time air. The rest of his body felt pleasantly warm. Memories of the previous night flooded his mind and he came to a shocking, unescapable conclusion:

_Taichou steals blankets._

Renji's efforts at covering himself were useless – at least if he wanted to make sure Byakuya got his much-needed sleep. He propped himself up on his elbow and used this rare occasion to observe his captain, now also his lover, in an unguarded moment of tranquility.

The deep grey eyes were closed, his long lashes blending with the delicate, dark circles underneath. His soft mouth, the mouth whose generosity Renji remembered so fondly he could feel himself harden, was relaxed into a slight smile. Long, smooth strands of Byakuya's night-black hair barely stood out against the lighter bedding in the sparse, ambient light of the room.

Renji bent down and deposited a feather-light kiss on the dark crown. His hands ached to run along the contours of the well-shaped chest, the lithe, slim hips, long thighs. He bit his lip. Byakuya needed his sleep.

XXXXXX

He took a quick shower in the small bathroom adjoining captain's quarters. His uniform was good enough to wear for one more day and he'd put on clean fundoshi later. Now, priorities beckoned. With alarm he recalled the state of the office as they left it last night.

First, dispose of evidence.

Second, get some food.

Third, get some work done.

XXXXXX

Light already penetrated the shoji screen of his quarters when Byakuya opened his eyes. He stretched his arm in expectation of delicious warmth, only to draw back under soft covers in disappointment.

_So Renji left. _

He did his best not to care. Perhaps his lovemaking wasn't as practiced as he'd like it to be for the man who could have any man or woman in Seireitei. If he grimaced, it was only because his Kuchiki façade wasn't awake and activated yet. Irritated with himself, he resolved to discard useless thoughts and get ready to face the day.

Only once he stood up he noticed yesterday's clothing folded neatly by the bed. The pile was topped with his haori, the silk scarf coiled casually on top, his kenseikan carefully placed in its nest. Heaviness lifted from his chest.

_He didn't just leave._

Warmed by the thought, Byakuya took all necessary steps to get ready for another long day.

XXXXXX

Renji heard the shower run and stood up from his desk to make tea. He eyed the diminished stack of papers critically. Not bad for over an hour of focused effort.

Byakuya entered the office looking pulled together as always. Renji sat at his desk, the brush seeming a bit clumsy in his large hand as he signed a requisition form.

"Good morning, taichou." Renji grinned at him, for once more awake than his superior. "The breakfast is on the table. Let me just rinse my brush and I'll join you."

Byakuya watched Renji stand up from his hard, wooden chair.

"Abarai. Is that a pillow you're sitting on?"

He had the benefit of seeing color rise up Renji's throat and into his cheeks. He had the surprise of seeing Renji quickly span the distance between them. A warm hand cupped his chin and lifted it to a chaste kiss.

"Good morning, Byakuya." The red eyes were laughing despite the blush, the crimson locks imprisoned in the neat ponytail, the hair band back in place.

"I would've stayed but you steal blankets and I was cold. I borrowed your shampoo, I hope you don't mind?"

Byakuya flustered.

"Abarai-fukutaichou."

"Yes yes, I know, taichou. It's just, it'd be an utter waste not to kiss you in the morning, y'now? Besides, it's before seven. You're not supposed to be here yet so it's not pure work-time, is it?" Mischief played across Renji's face.

The pillow on Renji's chair weighed on Byakuya's mind.

"How are you feeling, Renji?"

He felt generous arms embrace him, Renji's face buried into the crook of his neck. His moist breath tickled that sensitive spot under his ear again.  
"It's a lot more fun than other training injuries."

XXXXXXX

Renji was almost done delivering situation reports to other division offices. Normally an unseated officer would be entrusted with a mere messenger task.

"Really, taichou, I don't mind doing some running around."

The soft, eyes did not stray from the text, but Renji detected a slight elevation of the sleek eyebrows.

"As you wish, Abarai."

His meandering ways finally took him to the 11th division. He didn't relish having to stop in; Yumichika was a grudge holder with a famously vituperous tongue.

Renji walked in to see a familiar scene: Yumichika's attention was applied to divisional paperwork while Yachiru was making origami from his scrap paper.

"Hi, guys." Renji swaggered in, gently depositing a new load onto Yumichika's already full desk.

He saw the slighter man straighten, his striking violet eyes examining him carefully. Yumichika smiled.

"Good to see you, Renji."

Renji smiled with relief. "So you're not mad at me anymore?"

"No need, obviously. The least you could do is thank me, though." The long eyelashes batted under the feathered brow.

Renji's best imitation of the Kuchiki mask slammed down with the subtlety of a trap door. "I, ah, I thank you for the haircut and stuff. You and Ikkaku were really very helpful."

"Not for that, moron." Yumichika's smile spanned almost from ear to ear. "You ought to see yourself."

Renji was relived to see Ikkaku and Zaraki-taichou walk in from the training grounds. A distraction. Surely, there was a way to escape Yumichika's perceptive inquiry.

"Hello, Zaraki-taichou! Hi, Ikkaku!"

Kenpachi trained his yellow eye at him. "Nice of you to bring the reports, Abarai. Sit down for a bit."

"Thanks, but nah…I'll stand. Not much time, y'see."

Zaraki's maniacal grin materialized, his eye lazily looking Renji up and down.

"A cup of tea, perhaps? No? Another time, then. Don't be a stranger, Abarai!"

Renji was almost to the door when Ikkaku, being the mischievous traitor that he was, called out to him.

"Oi, Renji. You okay there? What's with your leg?"

Renji turned toward the three grinning men.

No.

No way.

How could they possibly know?  
"Ah…a training injury."

XXXXXX

Discretion was everything. If Renji lacked discretion, his relationship with Byakuya was as good as over and he may as well fill out transfer papers. Yumichika and Ikkaku were obviously aware of his pursuit, but Kenpachi shouldn't have known. It couldn't have been reiatsu residue – Kenpachi wouldn't have noticed. Renji was torn between self-interest and consideration. Renji, despite bouts of intense ardor, was primarily interested in a relationship. A structure based on mutual trust. How could he, in good conscience, not disclose the fact that their activities went unnoticed? Byakuya valued his privacy above most things in life, and if the cat's out of the bag, it was only fair to give him enough warning so he could initiate evasive action.

He knew this was the end. No doubt about it. His days with the 6th were over.

He walked into the office like a whipped dog. Byakuya's eyes trained on him immediately.

"What is it, Abarai?"

Renji took a deep breath. There was no beating around the bush. He approached his captain's desk, the despondent brown eyes meeting the warm, grey ones.

"You won't like it."

"Proceed." Byakuya's body stiffened, the impassive mask seated on his face.

Renji gave full debriefing of the 11th division encounter.

"How do they know? I…I didn't…"

He was surprised to see Byakuya's expression ease somewhat, the corners of his mouth tugging up a bit.

"Taichou?"

"Renji." His name on his captain's lips was music to his ears. "They will be discrete. They have their own secrets to keep. Besides," he looked at Renji meaningfully, "think of how you felt this morning."

"Yeah?"

"Right now. Close your eyes. Imagine you just woke up. How did you feel?"

Renji revisited the feelings and sensations of several hours ago.

"Good, Abarai. Now go look in the mirror."

Renji did. To his horror, the signs were unmistakable. He wore a goofy, happy smile. He had flushed, rosy cheeks and a barely concealed hickey peeked from under his shihakusho. He looked like a man who finally got well and thoroughly fucked.

XXXXXX

Only an hour after he fell asleep that night, a Hell butterfly landed on Renji's chest. He listened to the message and cursed. Another reiatsu anomaly. He dressed quickly, threw a few things in his Living World bag and reported to the office.

He walked in with a sense of purpose only to see Kurotsutchi-taichou bent over a new instrument with Byakuya . The discussion was intense.

"Abarai. You'll need to go right now and take a few readings. Report back immediately. No gigai this time."  
Renji took in his captain's all-business air. "Yes, taichou."

Before he opened the door on the way out, he heard Byakuya's voice edged with ice. "I will expect a full report once you return."

XXXXXX

The residual reiatsu was there. Something was definitely going on and Renji was about to return to the Senkaimon when Rukia ran up to him, breathless and disheveled.

"Renji!" She grabbed his sleeve.

"Renji, Orihime's missing!"

He hugged her and his heart clenched at her distress. Rukia was his only family. His accidentally chosen family. Her missing friend quickly became his problem as well.

"Ichigo's going after her. We can't let him go alone."

"Okay okay, of course I'll help you out!" He laughed easily, hoping to imbue his oldest friend with soothing warmth. His big hand ruffled her air.

"So…where is it we're going, exactly?"

XXXXXXX

Orihime Inoue's disappearance became a topic of highest importance for Gotei 13. Residual reiatsu readings Renji acquired indicated a movement in and out of Hueco Mundo. The initial assessment was useless; further analysis would have to be carried out and that would take time.

"They'll let her die, Renji!" Rukia's white face was pinched with fury. "She saved me along with everybody else. I owe her a debt of honor. I can't just let her be kidnapped – and no, she is not a traitor. She'd never do anything like that."

Ichigo's jaw was tight, his orange hair a shock over his hard, brown eyes. "She's our friend. She'd never leave us behind. I'm going in."

"By yourself?"  
"If need be."

Renji and Rukia looked at one another. The course of action was obvious.

"This is what we are doing, and this is where we'll meet."

XXXXXXX

Renji's ballpoint pen hesitated over a sheet of ordinary notebook paper. Several letters were already crumpled in the garbage can.

_Dear Taichou,_

_I am accompanying your sister on a minor mission while we both discharge a debt of honor. I am truly sorry there was no time to discuss this issue in person. Rukia didn't abandon me in Rukongai, and I cannot possibly let her perish on her own. Don't worry, we'll be careful._

_Renji_

He wanted to write "Dear Byakuya" and "With my heartfelt love, Renji", but the letter might fall into the wrong hands. Besides, taichou wasn't much for overt emotional display and the welts left by his sword were still fading on choice areas of his body. He sighed. Taichou wasn't some lovelorn girl and it would behoove him not to treat him as such.

He folded the lined piece of paper and handed it to Urahara.

"Yoruichi-san will take it through as the rest of you prepare, Renji."

XXXXXXX

They were so close to setting out – they only wanted to gather the latest intelligence from their contact at the 12th division.

The door behind him opened. The reiatsu he felt failed to alarm him; its soothing whiteness felt like a gentle embrace. Then the second reiatsu reached him, and a searing memory of painful defeat gripped Renji as he turned to see Zaraki-taichou's maniacal grin. Kuchiki-taichou stood behind him, his countenance surprisingly calm as he and Kenpachi grasped Renji and Rukia by their shoulders.

"We were sent to bring you back."

XXXXXXX

Renji sat on Byakuya's futon it captain's quarters. What their conversation lacked in volume, it made up in intensity.

"I can't let her go by herself, Byakuya. She's my only family."

The Kuchiki heir measured Renji with his eyes before he hissed, "She's my only family, too."

"I tried to let you know."

Byakuya gave him a gimlet eye. "You made an effort, but you hardly disclosed pertinent details, Renji. You don't know anything about the Hueco Mundo. An officer, going on a mission without even a smidgeon of intelligence on your hands. What were you thinking?"

Byakuya's reiatsu grew oppressive.

"I am sorry." Renji pushed back a little. "What would you have done? In my position, I mean?"

Byakuya's measured voice was distant.

"I wouldn't have announced my intention to go on a suicide mission." He pulled a folded, lined piece of paper from his sleeve and opened it.

"'_I cannot possibly let her perish on her own.'_ It seems you were well aware of the odds against your success."

Renji had no reply. The silence grew heavy between them for a time before he felt slim, strong hands grasp his shoulders and pull him back. A warm body served as pillow for his head as elegant fingers toyed with his hair.

"Let's think on this a little, Renji. This is not a simple mission. There may be something I can do about all this."

"When."

"Soon enough. Your friend will be safe as long as Aizen intends to use her special abilities. It's in his interest to keep her alive and well."

It was late; Rukia was staying at the 13th division and properly accounted for.

"There's something I have acquired for you, Renji." Byakuya pointed to a rectangular package by the side of the bed.

"Oh? What's that?" Renji sat up and proceeded to investigate. Gray, large, warm.

_Like his eyes._

"You got a second blanket?"

This could mean only one thing. Renji looked at Byakuya and grinned, but his expression died away under Byakuya's solemn gaze.

"I intend that we make a good use of this blanket after you return from Hueco Mundo, Renji. That's an order."

Renji saw a still, far-away look in the Byakuya's eyes. The pale skin was drawn tight, sensuous lips straight and hard. Rukia was his only family. Their only family. They were connected by a woman unrelated by blood to either of them but Renji felt a warm stirring of hope that even if the concern and love for Rukia was not an overwhelming factor, they would still have their own connection, their own sense of friendship. Caring. Perhaps even love. Yes, definitely love. Renji only hoped the feeling would someday be mutual.

He leaned in to kiss the drawn, tight lips, willing the worry away.  
"How 'bout we try the blanket tonight. See if it's good enough."

"Mmm." Byakuya allowed himself to melt in his arms, his eyes closing.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Wow, last chapter! I am so amazed how quickly time went by from the point when I actually begun writing. Thank you for all the love and cookies, and thank you for your inspiring ideas. Enjoy!**_

_**Warnings: yaoi, some angst, some wild lovemaking, definitely a lemon. **_

_Disclaimer: Bleach world and characters belong to Tite Kubo_

**Chapter 10 – Strategy and Tactics**

He awoke again, helpless in his pursuit of elusive sleep. Rest was denied him, his mind turning over and over like a grand, churning machine. He could not stop himself from evaluating every single variable once again. New outcomes varied only slightly from previous assessments. His final conclusion remained the same.

_Well then. How can we push the variables around to change the final conclusion? _

His mind was a large, charted game-board extending into fourth dimensions. Variables moved upon it languidly, at his command. The game-board layout undulated with each change, each action affecting everything else. His variables were dressed in their distinctive uniforms, driven by forces primal as well as political, each a discrete value system ensconced within the person with their own history, their own ethos.

Hours passed; permutations kept dying slow, gradual deaths in his mind. He felt surprisingly alert, lying on his back with is eyes closed, listening to the easy breath of the man next to him, warmed by his proximity. He was down to only two possible pathways when it occurred to him that he felt like a youth again. Suddenly, he could see it, just like he saw a way to beat his grandfather in a game of strategy long time ago. Kuchiki Ginrei never gave his grandson a strategic advantage and Byakuya knew that his first victory was an honest one. The memory warmed him. He wondered what Kuchiki Ginrei would have thought of his current plan, and of the man next to him, and of them together. As it stood, there were only three people qualified for the strategic analysis of this kind: one was dead – that would be his grandfather. The other was unavailable – that would be Aizen. He was the third one, and the decisions to set the game in motion rested in his deceptively slender hands.

He was the 28th head of the Kuchiki clan and captain of the 6th division. The assessment of his assets and liabilities identified Abarai Renji to be an asset he could not do without. He stirred under the blankets.

_Two blankets?_

Impossible. How did he end up with both of their covers? He was awake most of the night. Byakuya propped himself up on his elbow and redistributed the warm fabric to keep Renji from catching a chill and as he did so, he allowed his eyes to rest on the handsome, tattooed form of his fukutaichou. The red hair was braided in a plait for the night and his face seemed gentle, relaxed, young.

So much life. There was no way Kuchiki would resign his fate to a suicide mission. His analysis has shown that even if he locked Renji up to protect him, he'd lose him. Rukia would go to Orihime's rescue with the ryoka and he'd lose her, too. His analysis has also indicated that even though their odds would be improved by Renji's presence, their individual odds of returning were frighteningly slim.

_Frighteningly._

He rolled the word around in his mind for awhile for he was unaccustomed to it. A scene from not far back popped to his mind.

"_You treat me like a girl."_

Byakuya's accusation of Renji could now be easily turned around, for he felt a fierce wave of protectiveness toward him. Yet Renji was not Hisana. Renji was strong and resourceful and unafraid. Renji was a shinigami. Renji, most of all, needed to remain unfettered.

Pale hands ran up the sleeping yukata as he embraced him, his head on the broad chest. He felt the pain of closeness and the pain of fear, of separation and suddenly, with no warning whatsoever, a powerful feeling of want washed over him. He wanted Renji one more time, for this could well be their last time together.

XXXXXXX

Renji stirred in his sleep, aware of the impending dawn. He didn't want to wake up, not from this dream. No…this was too good. So sweet his toes curled and his teeth ached as he fought to keep his eyes closed and not wake. His hand eased toward his groin slowly and unconsciously only to have his fingers bury themselves in strands of soft, black silk spilling over his abdomen.

His eyes opened, yet the feeling of delicious warmth and softness did not abate.

"Byakuya," he whispered, threading his fingers through the smooth, black hair.

"Mmmm." The sound of Byakuya's mouth made Renji clench and jerk his hips in an involuntary thrust forward. Firm hands held his hips down and not much later he was looking into deep, grey eyes.

Renji embraced the slighter man and their lips met in a desperate kiss and it suddenly dawned on Byakuya that Renji also ran the odds, albeit in his own way and Renji was also aware of the most likely outcome. He ground his hips against the body beneath him.

"I want you, Renji." He paused to trace a jagged tattoo up his lover's neck, tasting the remnants of salt from yesterday and that indefinable, spicy flavor that evoked red and orange and…_Renji._ Soft tip of the slender tongue cherished the tender base of Renji's neck and slithered down to his hollow, reducing his words to ragged, unintelligible gasps. He felt his heat and his passion in each lavish caress, Byakuya's hands outlining the ridges and dips of his well-formed muscles, dragging just a touch of nails along his flat abdomen to fire the nerves along the way.

Byakuya felt the muscular thighs under him part. He met the flame-licked, indomitable eyes of his lover and nuzzled his lips to the corner of the firm, set mouth , determined to kiss the stubborn desperation into softness and warmth again. When they came up for air, his voice was a light, breathy whisper:

"No. I want you inside me, Renji."

For a moment he wasn't sure he heard right and then their eyes met again, the steely gaze melting into warm, silver pools and the stern lips softening into a hint of a smile. Renji felt Byakuya's smooth, sinewy thighs straddle his hips as their hard lengths brushed against one another in breathtaking promise. He felt two fingers pressed against his lips and, having been instructed in the theory of these things, he sucked. He felt, rather than heard, a gasp as his tongue whirled around the finger pads, running from the tender webbing to the nail in a slow, sensuous spiral and his teeth grazed the sensitive ends.

He watched his captain prepare himself and realized he hasn't seen anything as sexy as that in a very long time and an urge to posses his lover seized him. Renji bit his lip to regain control as he fought to keep notionless, like he was asked their first time.

Was that what Byakuya wanted?

His thought was all but stopped by feeling his lover's entrance poised against the blunt head of his swollen shaft. His eyes darkened with desire and he fought to keep them open, to see every little bit of his arousal disappear inside his lover's body. Tight, hot softness enveloped him and it took all he had to remain painfully still, his eyes on Byakuya's flushed, rapturous face.

"You're…so beautiful."

Renji's choked words triggered a movement of the pale, slender hips and he barely stifled his moan of pleasure as he met the movement halfway. And yet, as he felt Byakuya ride him there was a desperate quality to that cool, tightly leashed reiatsu, the pale expression still bearing marks of vestigial control. And that would never do.

Renji flipped them. Byakyua was incredulous with shock, his back now on the cold tatami.

"This is _not_ the end of the world." Renji's voice was a hiss against his neck. "I won't allow it." He looked at his captain, pinned underneath him with his legs splayed wide, expression rather uncertain in the wide grey eyes.

"You'll just have to trust me."

The strong words were full of conviction and Byakuya slowly felt them sink into his mind. They were like a key opening a tight lock rusted with disuse and he could feel his control ease, his reiatsu slip and merge with Renji's in breathtaking togetheress, his legs wrapped securely around Renji's waist.

He could feel his hips being lifted inexpertly, the way a student paints his first lines in a heavy calligraphy brush and he smiled, suddenly grateful to Ayasegawa-san.

"Renji." Their eyes locked.

_I will never let you go._

The unspoken words met their assent when Renji slid his hands up his arms, all the way to his hands. He felt the strong, willful redhead pin his limbs down by his head, the pressure on his wrists delicious and soothing as he felt every powerful thrust drive his back into the mat. He was being held down…him, with all his positions and titles and accomplishments and he was being pinned, restrained and driven into the tatami hard enough to imprint their pattern all over his back but – he couldn't think much, let alone analyze his motivations and feelings at that time but a corner of his mind registered a flash of surprise – being held like that made him feel inexplicably secure.

Renji did not know what to expect at his possessive, dominant gesture but he sure didn't expect Byakuya's expression soften, didn't expect his tension to drain and his hips meet him in fervent response. Barriers falling, he felt his craving for feeling Byakuya's reiatsu satisfied as they merged in a smooth, ageless rhythm. Their voices whispered barely audible, fragmented syllables between sharp inhales and quiet moans, broken terms of endearment which they feared to speak aloud, together yet apart, oblivious to their symphony.

He could barely hold on any longer as he felt Byakuya gasp at his deep thrusts and he buried himself in the searing, tight heat of his lover's body again and again. Byakuya's silky arousal rubbed hard against his smooth abdomen and Renji rolled his hips to feel the weeping, hard length caress his sensitive skin. He pulled back slowly, teasingly only to thrust one last time and felt the tightness grip him even harder as he peaked, his strong fingers clenching the slender wrists in a scintillating, mind-numbing release. Renji heard Byakuya's sharp inhale on the very cusp and grinned, turning his head to sink his teeth into the alabaster neck, his sensuous mouth eagerly sucking on the imprint of his teeth. He felt Byakuya's legs loosen from his waist and brace against the floor as he gathered himself beneath him and thrust upward, choking back a moan only to feel a wild keening sound ripped from his unwilling throat and his white, hot essence suddenly punctuated the black ink on Renji's chest.

They remained melted into one another for some time, regaining their breath and the use of their limbs. Renji lightened himself over his lover and kissed him with exquisite tenderness.

"I'm never lettin' you go."

_I love you._

"That's hardly practical, Renji-chan." Satisfied at the shock his term of endearment elicited in the melting eyes and flushed face of his brash, brazen fukutaichou, he savored the sensation of the exquisitely warm body still pinning him to the cold tatami, and smiled.

_And I love you._

XXXXXXX

"You sent for me, Nii-sama." Rukia bowed, her wild, violet eyes full of passionate disapproval. She wanted to be _there_, with her friends, helping. Not _here_, a prized songbird in her gilded cage.

"How are you doing, Rukia?"

She didn't know what to say; the question was unexpected.

"My well-being is unimportant."

_My friends matter more. You matter more._

"It is…important to me. Rukia." Byakuya took in the shocked expression in her eyes.

_Good._

"Have a seat. Renji will bring breakfast shortly."

They ate their rice and fish in silence. Renji put the mess hall tray away and made tea.

"I sent some butterflies out," Byakuya said after a long silence. "There are some things I have to take care of. In the meanwhile, I need you to stay here, Rukia, and help Renji with some work." He noted her alarmed expression. "Ukitake-taichou knows."

Byakuya walked over to the large filing cabinet and pulled out a veritable armful of files.

"Your task is to read these mission reports. The third-seat is doing your routine paperwork today, Abarai."

Byakuya breezed out the door, his long scarf fluttering in the air of his passing, not bothering to wait for their shocked expressions. For he knew they would be shocked once they saw mission reports older than himself; old statements of shinigami both alive and long gone, their carefully penned sentences littered with casualties from past missions to Hueco Mundo.

XXXXXXX

The distasteful, blue-painted man across from him was but a carved and painted figure on a great, four-dimensional game board of his mind. Byakuya lifted his teacup to sip the inferior brew.

"A rare opportunity for a man such as yourself, Kurotsuchi- taichou."

The 12th division captain examined the tactical analysis once again. He reached for another stack of papers to compare figures and sat in silence for some time.

"Nemu. Bring me the AH201 remote data."

"Yes, taichou." Nemu's voice was almost as silent as her footsteps as she glided out of the room, returning with a stack of printouts. He grasped them in his taloned, bony hands and leafed carefully to find a specific table of figures.

"There seems to be a correlation, Kuchiki-taichou. How very interesting." He turned to his fukutaichou.

"Nemu, process this data immediately."

Kurotsutchi-taichou lifted his golden eyes to Byakuya's veiled gaze.

"There is logic to what you suggest. Of course, it makes no sense for me to go if I don't get to gather any experimental specimen. And…I would need somebody to come with me. I cannot carry out proper scientific analysis under such extreme field conditions and fight hollow at the same time."

XXXXXXX

The familiar spiked hair shook with laughter, making the red bells ring.

"So what is it you really want, princess?"

Byakuya looked at him archly and knocked back a cup of sake to keep pace. This particular variable seemed more of an absolute value and less prone to manipulation.

"There will interesting fights. Kurotsutchi wants to study some new, advanced kind of hollows – apparently his remote readings yielded useful data. Advanced hollows mean a better fight for you."

The golden eye measured Byakuya carefully. He grinned, his canines gleaming.

"I am glad your buddy the 12th division captain you love so much is asking me to be his bodyguard. Ah heck, I'll come along. I didn't live through all this damn drama just to let you pine away for my old 6th seat."

Byakuya let his mask slip just the tiniest bit as he met Kenpachi's yellow gaze with steely determination. His voice was level, uninflected.

"I appreciate your support of scientific effort to help us in this war, Zaraki-taichou."

Kenpachi threw his head back and laughed.

XXXXXXX

Lucky for Rukia to have invited her old childhood friend to their home for lunch. What a lovely coincidence that Kuchiki-taichou happened to forget an item at home and chose to retrieve it at that time. Their timing couldn't have been better if they planned it.

Byakuya looked his sister and her friend up and down carefully. They were as ready as they were going to be, considering their destination.

"Follow me."

The three walked the long corridors to Byakuya's quarters. Two bundles rested on his futon. He gave the smaller one to Rukia, the larger one to Renji.

"You will need these to keep the sand away."

He wanted to grasp his fukutaichou's collar and kiss him senseless. He wanted to run his hands through his hair one more time. He wanted to feel the secure, warm promise of his embrace, to inhale his spicy scent.

"Nii-sama?"

Byakuya tore his eyes from Renji's heated gaze and shifted to Rukia.

"Don't worry, Nii-sama." Rukia stepped forward and her short arms embraced him around his waist quickly, hesitantly. He placed his hands on her shoulders and took a deep breath.

"Take good care of one another. Rukia. Renji."

Rukia's eyes shot up in shock. His usual words of parting have changed. It used to be,

"_Renji, take good care of Rukia."_

Byakuya's voice was impassive.

"I have every confidence in both of you. Report to me immediately upon your return. I will not accept failure."

Rukia stood by Renji then, both of them clad in their tan cloaks, their zanpakuto securely wedged in their obi. The private Kuchiki senkaimon was in the next room and Byakuya knew Rukia had the password memorized.

Renji looked back as they bowed out the door. Kuchiki-taichou stood in the middle of his bedroom, looking strangely forlorn. Their eyes met one last time and Renji saw Byakuya's right hand envelop his other wrist, his fingers wrapped around it the way Renji's were earlier that day. Not breaking eye contact, Byakuya rubbed the developing bruise. The two men nodded to one another briefly and then Byakuya stood there, alone, only the faint distended feeling of his wrists anchoring him to reality as he felt Rukia and Renji's reiatsu disappear.

XXXXXXX

"Strategic analysis indicates that we need to find out more about our enemy's potential before we set our plan into action, Soutaichou." The bold, sly voice emanated from the painted mouth as feelings of both satisfaction and revulsion warred under Byakuya's impassive mask.

"We cannot remove our powerful captains from Seireitei just to rescue two misguided officers," the soutaichou rumbled.

"Of course, soutaichou. I don't care about them either, but if we consider that all the ryoka, even the Quincy, join Kurosaki Ichigo on their mission to rescue Inoue Orihime, the analysis indicates they are likely to fall into Aizen's trap and be turned into powerful weapons against us."

Other captains processed the information presented during this emergency meeting carefully. Large part of Seireitei still bore physical signs of the ryoka invasion. Nobody wanted them to invade again, this time in a hollowfied form. Their strange powers would undoubtedly become even harder to counter.

"Che, let's just take the fight to the enemy. At least we will have some momentum." Kenpachi's gravelly voice resonated through the chamber and he drew curious looks, for this time he was both present and fully alert. It was not often that Zaraki-taichou professed an opinion.

Kenpachi's unexpected comment was a catalyst to a heated, protracted battle of wills between two factions. The gameboard in Byakuya's mind adjusted to new opinions and influences. The chits realigned their positions. He knew what would happen approximately two hours from now, and his eyes slid down half-mast, his impassive Kuchiki mask a foil behind which he could retreat into his inner world. His mind slipped into a relaxed meditative state while he kept adjusting his game-pieces, focused on the here and now, forcibly removing his mind from idle speculations on his sister's and his lover's whereabouts. 

XXXXXXX

Only two days later he observed Kurotsutchi Mayuri create a Garganta with the aid of his instruments.

Gravelly voice next to him chuckled. Byakuya looked at Kenpachi, his eyebrow slightly elevated.

Kenpachi lowered his voice for his hearing only. "It's not every day you see a prissy princess with a girly shikai rush to the rescue of her handsome hero."

The gaping maw in the sky ready, they stepped through.

_**This marks the end of "Strategy and Tactics". Keep posted for various related one-shots. Thank you for reading, everyone!**_


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